


Echoes of Affliction

by Pandagirl2019



Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Brotherly Love, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Death, Drama, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2020-08-14 09:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 62,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20189863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandagirl2019/pseuds/Pandagirl2019
Summary: Steve had never told anyone else about what happened when he was eleven years old. His dad told him to forget about the past and let it go, so he did. Or at least, he thought he had until the memories he tried to bury in the past came rushing back into the present.





	1. Chapter 1

_Eleven year old Steve Randle sat perched on the porch railing when his dad's latest girlfriend, Clara, strode up their driveway. Steve actually liked her, but he figured he shouldn't too much. She would be like all the others. Steve's mom, Rose, had died two years ago when he was nine. Since that time, Nicholas Randle had had a seemingly endless parade of women in and out of their house. Steve didn't really care. He had better things to do than try to keep track of his father's women. None of them were his mother, so they better not even try to be._   
_ "Hey there, Steve," Clara greeted, grinning at the little boy._   
_ Steve rolled his eyes. He may have liked Clara, but he still thought she paid him more attention than he cared to get from any woman, who wasn't his mom. Steve pulled his thoughts back from his mother and stared at Clara. "Hey, Clara. My dad's inside," he said, nodding toward the front door._   
_ "What if I came to see you too?" Clara asked, letting her mysterious green eyes gaze into Steve's blue ones._   
_ "Then, you just did," Steve declared, jumping down from the railing. "Tell Dad I went to Soda's," he said, walking away from the house._   
_ "Bye, Stevie!" Clara called sweetly._   
_ Steve didn't look back. He didn't see Clara continue watching him until he got too far away for her to see._

"Hey, Steve, windshields don't get any cleaner than that, man!" Sodapop said, raising an eyebrow and grinning.  
"Huh? Oh!" Steve startled out of his memories and put the squeegee he'd been using to clean the windshield back in its place.  
"What were you thinking about anyway?" Sodapop asked, as the car drove away.  
"Nothing. Just got a bit distracted. That's all," Steve said, as another car pulled up next to them.  
"Mind checking my oil?" the driver asked.  
"Sure thing, man," Steve replied.  
"Well, buddy, I'm going to punch out and head home!" Soda said, heading back inside the DX. "See you later, Stevie!"  
"Don't call me Stevie," Steve whispered to himself, taking a look under the hood of the car.  
"What was that?" the driver asked.  
"Nothing. Everything looks good," Steve said, letting the hood close.  
Why am I thinking about Clara? Steve wondered. He thought he'd shoved everything about that time in his life out of his memory. That was what his dad had insisted he do, after all. Then again, it had been his father who had mentioned her that morning.

Nicholas Randle was drunk. Again.  
"Dad, you really ought to lay off that stuff," Steve said, referring to the half empty bottle of whiskey his dad held.  
"Just mind your own self, son. I'm fine," Nicholas replied, taking another swig of the drink.  
"Whatever. I have to get to work. I'm already late, and Soda probably has his hands full," Steve said, buttoning up his DX shirt.  
"Boy, Soda seems like a good kid. Shame how much him and his brothers have been through."  
Steve didn't know which he preferred. His dad either got drunk and irritable or drunk and melancholy. He never did speak of Rose or his own grief, but he seemed to take on the losses of others as his own. Sure, he knew the Curtis brothers, but they'd never been close to him. Everyone liked Soda though, including Nicholas.  
"They've got each other," Steve said.  
"I miss having someone. Son, you remember Clara?" Nicholas asked.  
Steve froze. What kind of question was that? His dad never talked about her.  
"Of course I do. But you told me forget it. So I have," Steve said, grabbing his car keys off the counter.  
"She was so beautiful. She shouldn't have left. Why did you make her leave us?" Nicholas asked, his eyes growing glassy.  
Steve just stared at his dad in disbelief. What was he saying? Nicholas knew very well what had happened. Clara had been beautiful, but only on the outside. He had told Steve don't talk about her and forget it. Maybe Nicholas really had made himself forget.  
"I gotta go, Dad. Get some rest. You told Mrs. Mathews you'd look at her kitchen sink later," Steve said, even though he knew TwoBit had a better chance at fixing that sink than a drunk Nicholas Randle.  
Steve walked out into the warmth of the afternoon. The sun felt good on his skin, like it was chasing away the chill he felt in his soul when the memories he'd pretended didn't exist kept trying to become real again.  
No, Steve told himself. None of that matters. You moved on, and Dad moved on. You never told anyone what actually happened with Clara. That meant it all must have been a dream. It only happened in your mind.  
"Get a grip," Steve spoke to himself out loud. "You've been over that."  
What Steve hadn't yet realized was he couldn't get over something he had locked away and placed in the dark recesses of his mind. He thought he'd thrown away the key to that box.


	2. Chapter 2

Nicholas didn't know why he'd said that to his son. He loved Steve and didn't really blame him, but he did feel confused. He didn't miss Clara at all. The only person he missed was Rose, and he'd tried to recreate with Clara what he'd shared with his wife. Clara had even seemed good for Steve at first. In hindsight, Nicholas couldn't believe he'd let that woman near his son. He felt he should've seen what kind of person she would really turn out to be. They never talked about Clara. Nicholas had wanted to believe that if they didn't talk about it, it'd go away. After all, weren't there some things that people ought to forget, especially kids? Steve clearly hadn't forgotten. In spite of Nicholas' drunken state, he'd seen the look in Steve's eyes when he'd said Clara's name.  
Nicholas looked down at the bottle of whiskey he still held and sighed. He took one more swig before pouring the last of it down the drain. He didn't want the alcohol talking for him later when Steve came home.

Soda was busy adding blue food coloring to the macaroni and cheese he was preparing. "How's it look?" he asked Steve.  
"Depressed, man," Steve answered dryly.  
Soda frowned and pulled out more food coloring. He added yellow to mix with the blue before turning back to Steve. "How about now?"  
"It looks sick, dude!" Steve said, laughing.  
Soda looked perplexed, as he went back to stirring.

_"You know, I used to have a little boy, Steve," Clara said, taking a sip of her coffee._   
_ "Oh, yeah? Where is he?" Steve asked, about to take another bite of his pizza._   
_ "I lost him," Clara answered simply._   
_ Steve was afraid to ask what she meant by that._   
_ Clara reached over and touched Steve's cheek. "He looked so much like you," she said softly._   
_ Steve pulled away, bothered by the sudden affection. "What was his name?" he asked._   
_ "Christopher."_   
_ Steve nodded and finished his pizza. "I have to go," he said, standing up._   
_ "Where are you going?" Clara asked._   
_ Nicholas came in then, having just left work for the day._   
_ "Dad, I'm going to go hang out with TwoBit, okay? You know, Keith Mathews?" Steve told his dad._   
_ "Sure, son. Come home in a couple of hours," Nicholas said._   
_ "But he should stay here with us!" Clara insisted._   
_ "Huh? Why? He's a kid. He doesn't need to be inside all the time. Besides, don't you have a house to tend to too?" Nicholas questioned._   
_ "I do, but I like being with you," Clara said, smiling widely._   
_ Steve rolled his eyes. Clara's sweetness was beginning to get on his nerves. He would've liked for her to go home._   
_ "That's nice of you to say. I like being with you too," Nicholas said._   
_ Steve couldn't take it anymore and left to hang out with TwoBit. Much to his dismay, Clara moved into their house the next day._

"Aw, Sodapop, what'd you do to that poor macaroni?" Pony asked, laughing.  
Steve looked up, pulling his thoughts back to the present. He really didn't want to remember anything about Clara, and he knew if his memories kept going in this direction, it would only get more unpleasant. It would get scary.  
"Please tell me he didn't turn the meatloaf into a rainbow or something," Darry shouted from his spot in the living room.  
"Don't worry, Dar. It's plain and boring, just the way you like it!" Soda yelled.  
"Nothing is boring or plain with you around, Pepsi Cola!" Darry shot back, grinning.  
Steve had to laugh at the banter, and Darry did indeed have a point. There was nothing plain about Sodapop, and he hardly knew the meaning of the word "boring." This was one of the things he enjoyed about hanging out at the Curtis house. The brothers could tease and joke, but their love for one another always shone through. Steve had to go home to his dad soon. Sure, they loved each other, but it didn't show much.  
"Steve, want some green macaroni and cheese?" Soda asked.  
"Sure, buddy."  
He'd humor Soda and eat his creation, then he would go home to hear the apology he knew his dad would have for him.

"I'm sorry about this morning, Son," Nicholas said later that night, as Steve got out the clothes he planned to wear the next day.  
"It's fine, Dad," Steve answered, shrugging his shoulders.  
"No, it's really not. I should've have been talking about-"  
"Don't say it, Dad. Don't say her name."  
"All right." Nicholas held his hands up in surrender. "I'll just tell you I don't blame you, then. I was talking crazy this morning."  
"I know. She was just crazy too. That's what you told me back then," Steve said.  
"I wish I'd done better, Steve. None of it should've happened." Nicholas paused. "I miss your mother," he managed to admit.  
"Me too," Steve told his dad softly.  
That was probably the best connection this father and son shared.

Evie sat across from Steve in a booth at the Dingo. "Why do we always come here?" she asked.  
"I don't know. Cause it's on our side of town? Cause it's cheap?" Steve replied.  
"Cheap, huh? You think I'm a cheap date?"  
"That's not what I meant. You know I love you," Steve defended.  
"I'm just messing with you!" Evie laughed.  
Steve honestly did love Evie too. She was pretty and fun to hang around. She was easy to please too. She was happy just to spend time with him, no matter what they did.  
"I knew that," Steve said, even though he hadn't been sure.  
"Are you coming back to my place tonight?" Evie asked.  
"Aren't your parents home?"  
"Not until later. We can have the house all to ourselves," Evie said, raising her eyebrows.  
"Now, that's what I really like to hear, baby. Let's go. I'm done anyway."  
Steve reached for Evie's hand and pulled her up out of the booth, as she giggled.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve pressed his lips against Evie's, pulling her close to him. Evie kissed back passionately, as she pushed him down onto the couch cushions and straddled him.  
"I love you," Evie mumbled in between kisses.  
"I love you too. You're so hot, Evie," Steve said, as he caressed her body.  
Evie touched Steve's face. "So are you, my sweet." .  
"Can we take this into the bedroom?" Steve asked, winking.  
"Of course. I just thought I'd tease you a bit longer." Evie giggled and got to her feet, pulling Steve with her.  
"Real funny. Now, let's go!" Steve kissed Evie one more time before hurrying her into her bedroom.

_Steve lie on his bed, curled up in the covers. It was a chilly night. He was thinking about his mother when he drifted into a light sleep._   
_ "Hey there, honey," Clara whispered, stroking Steve's hair._   
_ Steve felt his eyes open and struggled to comprehend his surroundings. Why was Clara in here in the middle of the night? "Hmm... what's going on?" he mumbled sleepily._   
_ "Nothing. I was just watching you sleep," Clara replied nonchalantly._   
_ Am I dreaming? Steve wondered. He turned over to face away from Clara. "Go away," he told her, closing his eyes again._   
_ "No can do, my love. I'm here to watch over you," Clara said, as she sat on the bed and pulled Steve close to her._   
_ "Let me sleep," Steve said, annoyed._   
_ What was with her? Why would she be here in the middle of the night? Why would Clara be on his bed at all?_   
_ "All right, dear Stevie. I'll be going," Clara said, as she let go of him._   
_ She started to get up, but then learned down and kissed Steve's cheek instead._   
_ "You shouldn't be kissing me." Steve opened an eye to peak at her._   
_ "But it's just like a mother would do," Clara pointed out, with a shrug of her shoulders._   
_ "You're not my mother. Go back to your own bedroom," Steve insisted, feeling a little scared, though he couldn't have explained why._   
_ Clara listened to him then. Steve really wished she'd go back to her own house now. He had liked her before, but she was trying too hard, and it made him feel uncomfortable. Just because his father wanted her to act like his new wife and be a replacement for Rose didn't mean Steve was going to let Clara try to be his mother too. She hadn't even known Steve's mother. Besides, even if he would, she was going about it all wrong anyway. He was eleven years old. He didn't need anyone checking up on him at night, or watching him sleep. He wasn't a baby._

"You okay?" Evie asked.  
"Yeah, I'm fine," Steve answered, kissing Evie's cheek, as he lie next to her.  
"You just looked like you went somewhere else for a minute there."  
Steve couldn't tell her that he had. He had never told her about Clara at all since that had all happened before they met. He couldn't have brought up someone from his childhood without explaining why. The only people in his life now who knew about Clara, besides his dad, were Darry and Soda, and he supposed TwoBit may remember her. Pony may recall the name, though he'd been just eight years old. Soda had actually met her a few times. To them though, Clara was just one of his dad's girlfriends. Steve had never told anyone about the way she had acted toward him, not even Soda. It had seemed so weird at the time, it was embarrassing. Then, after that, it had seemed better to forget Clara altogether. However, she'd apparently become his own personal ghost.

_"Hi, Sodapop! Nice to meet you!" Clara said, putting out her hand._   
_ "You can call me Soda. All my friends do," Soda said, shaking her hand._   
_ "Soda, then. How long have you and Steve been friends?"_   
_ "Since kindergarten. He's my best friend."_   
_ "Aw, that's so sweet!"_   
_ Steve came outside, seeing Clara talking to his friend. He didn't really want her talking to Soda or anyone he knew. "Hey, man. Ready to go?" he asked Soda._   
_ "Yep! We can't be late again," Soda said._   
_ "Bye, Soda! You guys have fun at school! Behave yourself, Steve!" Clara shouted, as both boys walked away._   
_ "She seems nice," Soda said._   
_ "She is. Kind of weird though," Steve told him._   
_ "How so?"_   
_ "Just is," Steve said, not wanting to tell Soda how Clara had been creeping into his room at night._   
_ "Your dad really likes her?" Soda asked._   
_ "He does. I do too. She's just a bit strange. I think she wants to be my mom."_   
_ "Maybe she just likes kids," Soda said, shrugging._   
_ "I guess so. She said she had a son. Christopher."_   
_ "Where's he at?"_   
_ "That's another funny thing. She said she lost him."_   
_ Soda looked puzzled. Lost? "You can't just lose a person. He had to go somewhere!"_   
_ "I know, man. Maybe he died or something, but I mean, my mom died. I don't go around telling people I just lost her." Steve shook his head._   
_ The boys walked up to the elementary school and went inside, forgetting all about Clara for the day._

Steve handed the change to a customer and closed the cash register. A hand touched his shoulder, and he flinched away.  
"Woah. Easy, man. I didn't mean to spook you," Soda said, pulling his hand back.  
"It's not you, Soda. Just thinking about something," Steve explained.  
"You've been doing too much thinking lately."  
"You ain't kidding!" Steve agreed with him.  
"So what's on your mind?"  
"Nothing important. Just old...stuff." Steve decided to say.  
Soda narrowed his eyes at him.  
"Don't look at me like that," Steve said.  
"What old stuff?"  
"Nothing. Never mind. It's not important." He wished he hadn't said anything at all. Soda would never let it go now.  
"All right," Soda said.  
"Really?" Steve was surprised.  
"Yeah. I'll drop it." Soda paused. "For now," he added.

"I keep thinking about my mom, man. I miss her," Steve said.  
Soda watched Steve take another swig of the bottle of whiskey. He talked about his dad sometimes and how he would get sad when he was drinking. Soda figured that was better than getting angry, but still it was still ironic since Steve was now sitting here with him drinking whiskey beneath the night sky and sounding so somber.  
"I loved your mom. She was a sweetheart," Soda said, taking a drag off his cigarette.  
Soda had decided that if Steve was going to drink, he'd at least have a smoke. Besides, if Steve was going to talk like this, he'd need something to steady his nerves.  
"I miss Johnny and Dal too. They didn't deserve to die," Steve said.  
Soda almost dropped his cigarette. He didn't mind talking about them. It was just they usually didn't because it still hurt a lot. "They sure didn't, buddy," he agreed.  
"I loved your parents too," Steve said, and Soda thought he heard his voice crack.  
"What's going on, Steve? I mean, I'm know you're kind of drunk here, but that stuff doesn't come from nowhere." Soda saw an opportunity, and he wondered if Steve would tell him whatever it was he almost had earlier.  
"Nothing. Just thinking."  
"About?"  
"People. My life. My mom. Clara," Steve said, seeming far away.  
That sounds familiar, Soda thought. "Wasn't she your dad's old girlfriend?" he asked.  
"Yeah. I keep remembering her..." Steve leaned back and closed his eyes. "It makes me feel sick."  
"What does? What are you talking about? I remember her, but I don't remember anything bad."  
Soda was confused at his best friend's words. He remembered meeting Clara, but he'd only been eleven. Had he missed something? What did she have to do with their departed parents and friends?  
"I remember telling you she was weird," Steve said.  
Soda also had a faint memory of that conversation. Something about it had made it stick in his mind. "Weird ain't always bad," he said.  
Soda wasn't trying to be funny. Steve laughed anyway, but it was a humorless sound. "It was for her," he said, now looking straight at Soda.  
"Why?" Soda asked, figuring this wasn't going to get much further.  
"Trust me. You don't want to know." Steve turned serious again and looked away.  
Soda didn't mention it, but he glanced at Steve curiously and saw a single tear fall down his cheek. What the heck is going on? Soda wondered.


	4. Chapter 4

_"I feel sick, Dad. I think I'm going to throw up," Steve said, clutching his stomach._   
_ "Go lie down, Steve," Nicholas said, feeling his son's forehead._   
_ "All right," Steve said, nodding his head._   
_ Steve had a lot of stomach aches lately, and he wasn't sure why. He lie down on his bed and tried to relax, appreciating the coolness of the sheets against his skin._   
_ Steve didn't see Clara come in his room. "Hi, my love. How are you feeling?" she asked._   
_ "Why do you keep calling me that?" Steve asked, moaning as another wave of nausea passed through him._   
_ "Cause I like to." Clara started rubbing his back._   
_ "Don't touch me anymore." Steve tried to be louder than he could in the moment._   
_ "I thought you liked it!" Clara sounded offended._   
_ "I don't!" Steve insisted._   
_ "Too bad," Clara said quietly, as she stroked his hair._   
_ Nicholas appeared at the door. "Clara, would you go get some soup for Steve?" he asked._   
_ "I'd like to stay with him. You go get it. I'll be right here with Steve," Clara replied._   
_ Steve clenched his eyes shut. Why did this woman want to be close to him all the time?_   
_ "Sure. Thanks, Clara. I'll be right back," Nicholas said, walking away._

"Darry, do you remember Steve's dad's old girlfriend, Clara?" Soda asked.  
Darry sat on the porch swing next to Soda and thought for a moment. "Sounds familiar..." he said.  
"Steve was going on about her tonight. He said there was something bad about her that he said I didn't want to know."  
"That sounds strange. I do remember that name. But that was at least five or six years ago," Darry pointed out.  
"I remember her. I met her. I thought she was real pretty. One time, she stared at me. That was kind of weird, but it was just like she thought I looked like someone else she knew or something."  
Darry's eyes widened, and he looked at Soda.  
"What, Darry?" Soda questioned, looking alarmed.  
"Soda, didn't she die or something? Maybe that's what Steve is thinking about."  
Soda searched his memory for anything about Clara dying. He wasn't sure, but he did vaguely recall one conversation. "I think I remember Steve telling me there was some sort of accident. It was right after she left when his dad and Clara broke up. But he didn't tell me exactly what happened," he explained.  
"You guys were just kids. There are some things kids don't talk about with each other. Maybe he didn't understand what was going on anyway."  
"Steve was talking about missing his mom too. I think maybe his dad has been saying things to him, and got him thinking too much," Soda said.  
"Maybe, but something is bugging him, it sounds like."

Steve opened his eyes, feeling an ache in his head. For a moment, he wasn't sure where he was. Then, he focused on his surroundings and realized he was on the couch in the Curtis living room. Steve slowly sat up, rubbing his head.  
"Hung over, man?" came Soda's voice.  
"Just a bit," Steve replied, yawning.  
"Your dad called a little bit ago," Soda said.  
"What'd he want?"  
"Nothing. Just wanted to make sure you were still here. Want some breakfast?"  
"No, thanks, man. I feel kind of sick." Steve leaned back on the couch cushion.  
"All right. Hang here as long as you want," Soda said, as he walked back into the kitchen, intending to cook himself an egg.  
Steve pulled his blanket back over himself and closed his eyes. His thoughts drifted to the night before. He didn't think he'd been that drunk, but he wondered what he had talked to Soda about. Steve knew his inhibitions lowered when he drank, and he tended to say things he wouldn't when he was sober.  
"Hey, Soda?" Steve called.  
"Yeah?"  
"Did I say anything weird last night?"  
"Kind of. You weren't making a lot of sense." Soda walked back to the living room to look at Steve. "Man, what do you remember about Clara that was so bad?"  
Steve felt his face pale. What had he said? "What did I tell you?" he groaned.  
"Just that Clara was weird, but not in a good way." Soda thought a moment, unsure if he should add more. "And you said remembering her was making you feel sick."  
"Oh my god," Steve mumbled.  
"It's okay, man," Soda said, deciding not to mention the last part of the conversation for now.  
Steve had kept these secrets to himself for so long, and now it seemed he couldn't stop spilling pieces of them. He was either saying things he now wanted to take back or getting pulled into memories. He knew Soda was way past suspicious. Evie probably was too.  
The smell of the eggs Soda was scrambling drifted through the house, and Steve began to feel very nauseous.

_Clara stood next to Steve's bed, holding a plate with scrambled eggs and a glass of orange juice. "Hi, sweetheart, I made you breakfast," she almost sang._   
_ Steve turned away from her, feeling afraid. The fear he'd felt in the middle of the night rushed back to him. Clara had been in his bed again. At first, she'd only stroked his hair. He had tried to ignore her, but she had started talking._   
_ "You know, you do look like my Christopher. But you also look like my love, Nathan. If not for him, I'd still have Christopher." Clara spoke cryptically._   
_ Steve didn't know what she meant, and he didn't care. He only wanted her to go away. He squeezed his eyes shut, pretending this wasn't happening._   
_ He felt Clara lie down close to him and fought tears when her hands wandered to places he knew she shouldn't be touching._

Steve jumped up off the couch and bolted into the bathroom. He made it to the toilet just in time to throw up all that was in his stomach.  
"Steve? You okay in there?" Soda called through the closed door.  
Steve didn't yet have the courage to admit he wasn't okay at all.

_Steve lie next to Soda out in the grass in the Randle's backyard, both of them staring at the stars. They heard the door of the house open and shut._   
_ Clara sat down next to Steve."It sure is pretty out tonight," she said. She looked up at the sky, then began staring at Soda. "I met your dad the other day. He's a nice, handsome man."_   
_ "He is. My dad's great," Soda replied, grinning._   
_ "You look so much like him," Clara said, smiling at the boy._   
_ That got Steve's attention. It sounded too much like the things Clara had said to him. "Hey, Soda, don't you have to get home?" he said abruptly._   
_ "But I thought-" Soda started._   
_ Steve cut him off. "Can I come to your house instead?"_   
_ "Sure, man. Whatever you want. Pony might follow us around though," Soda told Steve._   
_ Steve saw Clara start to protest, not wanting him to leave. She always wanted him in her sight. Before she could speak though, he and Soda ran inside. Nicholas told Steve he could go, and he left with Soda, not even stopping to grab clothes._

Wow, Steve thought. That was why he still felt so safe at the Curtis' house. He'd run here even way back then.  
Before Soda could ask anymore questions though, Steve rushed out of the bathroom, then out the front door. He just wanted to go home and be alone. Soda most likely believed he had just gotten sick because he'd been drinking the night before, so maybe his best friend wouldn't say anything about it. Yet, this wasn't the only time Steve had gotten sick over there, and he had never taken off like that before. Steve realized he had probably set off even more alarm bells in Soda's head, but he'd have to deal with that later.  
Steve arrived at his own house, where his dad sat watching television.  
"Feeling all right, Son? Soda said you were sleeping off a hangover," Nicholas wondered.  
"Yeah, I'm fine," Steve answered, as he went in his room and closed the door.  
He climbed into his bed and wrapped himself up in the comforter. Steve knew Soda didn't believe he was fine, but he was counting on his dad buying the lie. He had before, after all.


	5. Chapter 5

The phone rang, and Nicholas picked it up. "Hello," he answered. He had just gotten home from his job working at the grocery store a few miles down the road and found Steve still in his room. He had been there since the morning before. "Son?" Nicholas called.  
"What?" Steve yelled.  
"Evie is on the phone. Come get it," Nicholas said.  
Steve appeared in the hallway, looking worn. He really didn't feel like talking to anyone.  
Nicholas covered the phone with one hand, so Evie wouldn't hear his next words. "What's wrong with you, Steve? You can't still be sick from a little bit of drinking. You've been holed up here all day," he said.  
"Leave it alone, Dad. I'm just tired." Steve took the phone.  
Nicholas stood, listening.  
"Hey, Evie. No, I don't want to come out tonight." Steve paused to listen to Evie. "I don't know. Just not in the mood. I'll talk to you later," he said, before hanging up.  
"Son, this isn't like you. You love Evie. And Sodapop came by again last night."  
"Yeah? What'd you tell him?"  
"I told him you were okay, but he can't seem to get over the fact that you rushed out of their house like the devil was after you when you got sick."  
Steve couldn't blame Soda. He had never done that before, but he'd just needed to get away. He had wanted to be alone to fight the fierce battle his hidden memories had started. Steve was losing that war though, and he knew it. "I just don't feel like talking. Not to Evie. Not to Soda. Not to you either really," he said, irritated, as he wearily sat down on the couch.  
Steve couldn't say this to his dad, but there was no way he could tell Nicholas what was bothering him. He had been the one to tell him to bury it in the first place.  
"TwoBit stopped in last night too. I hadn't seen that boy in a while," Nicholas added.  
"What'd he want?" Steve scowled.  
"Just checking on you. He'd heard you were sick. If you hadn't been sleeping, I'd have sent him in there with you. You could use his wild sense of humor right now!" Nicholas said, remembering how TwoBit had come over and made him laugh with his clowning around.  
"Whatever, Dad. I don't feel good." Steve rubbed his eyes.  
"What's wrong?" Nicholas asked with genuine concern.  
"I-I don't know exactly. Just out of sorts. You're right. It's not from drinking," Steve admitted, softening for a moment, but not letting his guard down completely.  
Nicholas sighed, feeling out of his element. He knew he always seemed to make it worse when his son was hurt or upset, but that was never his intention. "Son, why don't you go take a shower? It'll help you feel better," he offered, deciding on practical advice.  
Steve shrugged, struggling with admitting his dad could be right. It might be a good idea to shower and change clothes. If nothing else, it'd make him feel better physically. He wouldn't hold his breath on anything making him feel better emotionally though. That damage had been done.

Steve had showered, shaved, and put on fresh clothes. He stood in the front yard, smoking a cigarette. His dad had been wrong. He didn't feel better at all. Steve was about to put the cigarette out and go back inside to his room when he saw his best friend walking toward him.  
"Hey, Steve! Where you been hiding?" Soda yelled.  
"It's only been a day, Soda!" Steve answered.  
"True. But that's unusual. You're always around," Soda reasoned, coming to stand next to Steve.  
Steve rolled his eyes. His best friend was right. Soda also knew him better than anyone else, and he was afraid he'd spill everything to him without even a conscious thought. Steve couldn't let that happen.  
"You feeling better?" Soda asked.  
"I guess." Steve shrugged, lighting another cigarette.  
"Going to tell me what in the world you were going on about right now before you got sick yesterday?" Soda met Steve's eyes.  
"Wasn't planning on it."  
"I know something has you freaked out, man. You ain't fooling me." Soda said took a cigarette and grabbed the lighter from Steve's hand.  
"I'm not trying to fool you. I'm perfectly fine!" Steve shot back.  
"Oh yeah?" Soda lit the cigarette and took a drag. "Then, why so defensive?"  
"I don't have to explain myself to you." Steve glared at Soda before putting the cigarette out and storming into the house.  
Soda realized he couldn't force Steve to tell him anything, but he wouldn't be so easily pushed away either. Even if his friend wouldn't talk to him, he'd still stick around. Soda put his own cigarette out and went into the house after Steve.  
Steve stood holding the T.V. remote, flipping channels. "What's wrong with the world, man? Ain't nothing ever on T.V. anymore!" he shouted before hurling the remote at the wall.  
"Steve, buddy, calm down. You've been cooped up in this house for over a day. Come somewhere with me. I don't care where," Soda offered.  
It wasn't Soda's voice Steve heard though.

_"Aw, come on, Stevie. Come with me and your dad. Then, we'll get ice cream," Clara said._   
_ Steve rolled his eyes. He was too old to be bribed with an ice cream cone. "No, I don't want to," he said._   
_ "Oh, but you will. Or I'll tell your dad all about last night," Clara threatened._   
_ Steve narrowed his eyes and felt a knot of fear in his heart, but he finally agreed. He didn't want his dad to know about last night. He might blame him._

"Shut up, Soda! Just leave me the hell alone!" Steve shouted.  
"What-" Soda started to say, genuinely confused.  
Steve suddenly grabbed the front of Soda's T-shirt and pushed him into the wall, holding him there. "Go home, Sodapop!" he hissed, clenching his free hand into a fist.  
"No! What is wrong with you?" Soda asked, steadily meeting Steve's gaze.  
Steve took a deep breath and slowly let go of Soda before turning away.  
"Come on. I know something is wrong. You ain't ever lashed out at me like that before," Soda said, unable to keep the hurt out of his voice.  
Steve knew Soda was right. He had never even almost laid a hand on his best friend. "I'm sorry, Soda," he said, feeling his anger running out.  
"Steve, is it your dad? Did he do something?" Soda ignored the apology he didn't need.  
"I can't tell you," Steve answered simply, looking out the window, away from Soda's eyes that he knew would be searching him for an explanation.  
"What do you mean?"  
"I mean I can't tell you. You haven't known all this time. Knowing now won't do any good."  
Steve realized he was doing it again. He was spilling pieces of the secrets he'd kept. If he kept this up, Soda would eventually fit them together and create the horrific picture Steve was still trying to lock inside.  
"All this time? What are you talking about?" Soda asked. He'd known Steve for twelve years. What was there that he didn't know about him?  
"I can't, Soda. I just can't," Steve said, tears edging into his voice.  
"Okay. Then, you don't have to." Soda laid a hand on Steve's shoulder and felt him flinch a little, but he chose not to mention it. "Just come hang out with me. I'm worried about you."  
Steve looked straight into Soda's eyes then and nodded. "Okay. I'll do that," he said softly.  
What Steve didn't know yet was he was much closer to spilling the truth to Soda than he could imagine

_Steve sat in the kitchen , trying to do his homework. He was having trouble focusing. He yawned, unable to comprehend the words on the page. He'd been awake late the night before, afraid Clara would come into his room again. She actually hadn't, and Steve wondered if he'd dreamed the incident from two nights ago. It had left him feeling confused and hurt. He was just a kid. Why would she touch him that way? Besides, didn't Clara see him like a son? That's what he'd thought, but he didn't know what to believe now. Steve felt a dull ache in his stomach, wondering if something was wrong with him. He had wondered if he should talk to his dad, but he was afraid, and he didn't want to ruin anything. Maybe it wouldn't even happen again._   
_ "Hi, Son!" Nicholas greeted, coming into the kitchen._   
_ "Hi, Dad," Steve said, as he yawned again._   
_ "Almost done with your homework?" Nicholas asked, as he poured himself a glass of tea._   
_ "Yep, no big deal," Steve lied, closing his textbook._   
_ "You look awfully tired, Steve. Been staying up too late?" Nicholas took a swallow of his drink._   
_ You could say that, Steve thought. "Naw, I'm fine. I'll be right back. I'm going to put this book in my backpack," he said, getting to his feet._   
_ "You want to come out to dinner with Clara and me tonight?"_   
_ "Um, I don't know," Steve hedged. "Where are you going?"_   
_ "That burger place over on 21st. You probably remember."_   
_ Steve did remember, and no way would he go there with Clara. That had been where he used to go with his mother to get milkshakes. His mom and dad even went there on lunch dates sometimes._   
_ "I don't want to," Steve said, as he shook his head, thinking of his mom. He sure needed her now. She had always known what to do._

Soda and Steve had decided to just ride around town. It had been a simple decision since Soda had only asked Steve to hang out with him and get out of the house. Steve certainly wasn't in the mood for any kind of social scene.  
"Sure you don't want to drive?" Soda asked again.  
"I'm sure," Steve answered.  
They were in Steve's car, and he'd told Soda he could drive. He usually didn't let anyone else drive his car, but tonight was an exception. He'd only come out because of how he'd acted toward Soda, and he didn't feel like driving.  
"All right, buddy." Soda shrugged and pushed on the gas. "Where should we go?" he asked.  
"I don't care, Sodapop," Steve said, leaning his head on the window.  
Soda sighed. Steve was just puzzling him more and more by the moment. "Steve..." He started. "Please tell me something. You ain't you right now. You're never this down."  
Steve didn't say anything else. He just rolled down the window and let the warm summer air blow into his face.

_Steve glanced at Clara from his place up on the tree branch, as she came out into the backyard. She was carrying something. It looked like a present. She looked in his direction, but he made no move to climb down._   
_ "Steve! I brought you something to cheer you up!" Clara said, looking up at him._   
_ What could I want from you? Steve thought._   
_ Before Steve could say anything, Nicholas appeared on the porch. He came and stood next to Clara. "What's going on, Son?" he asked, smiling._   
_ "I brought Stevie a gift!" Clara sang._   
_ "Well, don't be rude. Come on down here," Nicholas said to Steve._   
_ "Dad, when is she going back to her house?" Steve asked._   
_ "She lives here now, Son. You know that," Nicholas said, putting his arm around Clara and kissing her cheek._   
_ That night, Clara had come into Steve's room again. "How dare you say such a thing," she scolded._   
_ Steve had pretended to be asleep when he'd first felt her hands touching him. Maybe he would fall asleep and dream, then this wouldn't be happening at all._

"Steve!" Soda was saying.  
"Huh?" Steve asked, startled.  
"I've been trying to talk to you," Soda said, as he parked the car.  
"Where are we?" Steve looked around. He'd been so lost in his thoughts and memories, he'd hardly noticed the car moving.  
"Just somewhere way at the end of the strip. You weren't saying anything, so I just kept on driving," Soda explained.  
"Oh." Steve blinked.  
"I'm going to go in here and get a sandwich. Want anything?" Soda asked, gesturing to the fast food joint next to them.  
"Um...no. Thanks, man," Steve replied.  
Soda opened the door, starting to get out.  
"Soda?" Steve asked suddenly.  
"Yeah?" Soda turned to look at him, noticing the unsteady tone.  
Steve sighed, realizing he really couldn't say what he'd been thinking. For a moment, he'd thought he could tell Soda the truth. "Nothing," he said, as he looked away.  
"Okay. I'll be right back, buddy," Soda said, closing the car door and walking towards the restaurant.  
Soda returned minutes later and pushed a sandwich into Steve's lap and handed him a drink.  
"But I said-" Steve started.  
"I don't care what you said. I bet you didn't eat all day, did you?"  
Now that Steve thought about it, he was hungry, and he hadn't eaten since yesterday. "Thanks, Soda," he said.  
Soda didn't say anything more. He just patted Steve's back and started eating his own food.


	6. Chapter 6

"Hey, want a beer, man?" TwoBit asked Steve.

"No, not tonight, TwoBit," Steve answered.

Steve and Soda had driven back to the Curtis' house, and Darry and Pony were there too, along with TwoBit. In truth, Steve really would've liked a beer, but he knew if he started drinking, he'd start talking. He wasn't ready for that.

Pony poured milk into a glass and glanced at Steve, as he got out the chocolate syrup. "How about some chocolate milk then?" he asked.

"Sure, kid. Thanks," Steve said.

"Hey, isn't that Evie?" Darry asked, looking out the window.

"Sure is," Steve said, then stepped outside to meet her, just as she got to the porch steps. "Hi, Evie. What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I went by your house. You weren't there, so I thought you might be here," Evie said.

She leaned in to kiss Steve, and he stepped away.

"Steve, what's wrong?" Evie asked, obviously hurt.

"I just...I can't." Steve stuttered.

"You can't kiss me?" Evie demanded.

Steve didn't know what to tell her. The only decent explanation would be the truth, and he couldn't tell her that.

"We slept together three days ago, and now, you can't kiss me, Steve Randle?"

"I'm sorry, baby. It's not a big deal. I didn't mean-"

"Are you seeing someone else?"

"Of course not! Only you! I don't want anyone else, but you, Evie," Steve said.

"Well, what's going on then?" Evie stepped closer to him.

"I can't tell you," Steve said, reaching out to touch her face.

Evie slapped his hand away. "What do you mean you can't tell me? What is going on, Steve? You can tell me anything."

"Not this. I'm sorry, Evie." Steve shook his head sadly. "But it's nothing to do with you. I promise. I love you."

"If you loved me, you'd be honest with me! Call me when you grow up, Steve!" Evie shouted, as she stomped away.

Steve felt guilt shoot through him painfully, as he heard the tears in her voice. He never wanted to hurt Evie. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't tell her, and he hadn't meant to pull away. It had just happened. Steve was afraid she'd never see him the same way again.

Inside the house, Soda stood by the door listening to Steve and Evie.

"You really shouldn't do that," Darry tried to scold his brother.

"If you'd seen him earlier, you would be listening too, Dar. Something really ain't right, and it just keeps looking worse," Soda said.

Steve came back inside and let himself fall into a chair, holding his head in his hands. He wouldn't look at any of them.

"Steve?" Soda asked.

"What? I know you heard. Don't pretend you didn't," Steve said, feeling a tear fall down his cheek.

"All right. Fine. Couldn't help myself," Soda admitted, sitting down next to Steve.

"I do love her, man," Steve said shakily, still not looking up.

Soda put a hand on his shoulder. "I know you do," he said.

"Hell, we all know that, Steve. Evie does too," TwoBit piped up, already half drunk.

Steve had forgotten he was there. It wasn't just Soda listening to him this time. It was all of them.

"Steve, whatever is going on with you, Evie will understand and come around," Soda added.

"No, she won't. Cause I can't tell her. I can't say it!" Steve yelled, finally looking up.

"Just call her when you're ready," Darry tried.

"You're not hearing me! I'll never be ready!" Steve shouted, jumping to his feet. "I got to go. I'll see you guys later," he said, as he left the house.

Pony, who had stood speechless, finally spoke. "What was that?" he asked. This was not the Steve Pony knew at all.

"I don't know. He won't tell me either. But I know something is really wrong. What do I do, Darry?" Soda asked, looking to his big brother for help.

"Just hang on, little buddy. You know Steve. He'll be okay eventually," Darry said, ruffling Soda's hair.

Soda wanted to believe that, but he wasn't so sure.

Nicholas was just about to head into his bedroom for the night when he heard the door slam, and his son appeared in front of him.

"This is all your fault!" Steve shouted.

"What are you talking about?" Nicholas asked.

"You're the one who said forget about it! You told me don't ever speak of it again! But I didn't forget. I tried and I can't!"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Clara! She hurt me, Dad! She hurt me! How could I forget?"

Nicholas froze. He'd tried to shut out the guilt he felt over the suffering his son had endured. It was still there just as much as Steve's memories were though. "I'm so sorry, Son. I really only did what I thought was best at the time," he said.

"That's all you can say? I just fucked things up with Evie because I can't even stand for a woman to touch me that way right now. And you're sorry?"

Nicholas wished he could do better. If he could turn back time, he'd keep things out in the open with Steve. He wouldn't try to go on like nothing happened, like he hadn't invited a monster into his own son's life. But he couldn't change it now. "What do you want me to do?" he yelled.

"I don't know! I just want all of this out of my head. It won't go away, and Sodapop and all the guys know something is wrong with me! You don't know what it's like to have this shit in my mind." Steve turned away from his dad.

"I know what it's like to not be able to forgive myself! Cause I haven't. I really thought it hadn't affected you, that she was gone, so it didn't matter," Nicholas said, touching Steve's shoulder.

Steve thought of Clara's hands touching him and wondered how his dad could think that wouldn't matter. It had always mattered. "She abused me, Dad. How the hell could that not affect me?" he shouted, feeling tears that he was determined to stop.

"I don't know. But you haven't said anything all this time so-"

"Cause I tried to pretend it didn't happen like you told me to do. And it was like you blamed me then! I never even told anyone." Steve took a deep breath. "But these memories...they keep flashing into my mind, Dad! It's like it haunting me, and you're the one who mentioned her the other day!"

Steve hated the memories that had become like echoes in the night. No matter how much he fought them, they always bounced back, reverberating with the sound of innocence taken.

"I messed up back then, Son," Nicholas admitted. "Let me fix it now." He tried to hug Steve, but his son violently pulled away.

"No, Dad. You should've been like that then. I wouldn't feel like this now if you had," Steve said venomously, as he walked away from Nicholas.

_Nicholas awakened during the night and started to make his way to the bathroom. On the way, he realized he didn't see Clara anywhere. He peeked into Steve's room._

_"Go away. Please don't do this anymore," Steve was crying._

_What is going on? Nicholas wondered. He opened the door a little more and struggled with the sight before him. Clara lie close to Steve. Too close. Steve wasn't moving, but tears rolled down his cheeks, as he pleaded for Clara to stop._

_"What is going on here? Clara, get away from him!" Nicholas shouted so loudly the house seemed to shake, and Clara bolted away from Steve._

_"Nothing! He just had a nightmare! I was comforting him," Clara tried to lie._

_"Bullshit! Get out of my house! Don't ever come near me or my son again!" Nicholas yelled furiously. He'd have liked to think he would never lay a hand on a woman in anger, but if Clara didn't get out of his sight and out of his house, he couldn't make any promises._

_"But Nicholas!" Clara tried._

_"Shut up and get out! I can't believe I ever let you near my kid. You're sick, Clara!" Nicholas said, going toward her._

_Realizing her safety was in danger, as she looked into Nicholas' blazing eyes, Clara fled from the room. They never saw her again._

Nicholas stood in the middle of the living room, feeling as defeated as he had the night he'd caught Clara touching his son. He hadn't protected Steve. He was all he'd had after Rose died, and he'd let him get hurt. Nicholas remembered how Steve had seemed to be trying to pull away from Clara, but he naively blamed it on the boy's grief over losing his mother. Before he'd walked into Steve' bedroom that night, Nicholas had turned a blind eye to anything that seemed suspicious. Steve missed his mother, and Nicholas did too. Clara missed her own son. Nicholas had actually felt sorry for her back then, before he knew what she really was and why she was so interested in staying close to Steve. Looking back, Nicholas wished he had been able to make things better for Steve after he'd thrown Clara out, but he had not done enough.

He went to the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. Maybe if he had a drink, he'd feel better and less like a failure. Nicholas knew he'd have to find a way to make this up to Steve. He looked out the window at the sky, thinking of his wife.

"Please help me, sweetheart. You were always better than me, Rose. You were an amazing mother. Please help our son now," Nicholas said, feeling the whiskey burn his throat.

_After Clara had run from the house, Nicholas turned to see his son curled up in a ball on his bed, face buried in his arms._

_"Stevie? Are you okay?" Nicholas asked gently, touching his son's shoulder._

_Steve only sobbed._

_"Has this..." Nicholas didn't know how to ask the question. "Has this happened a lot?" He feared tonight hadn't been the first time._

_Steve nodded his head. "I'm so sorry, Dad," he cried._

_"I wish you'd told me." Nicholas said sadly. "But it's okay now, Son. She's gone. No one is going to hurt you like that ever again," he assured his son._

_"She just kept touching me, Dad. Why? Why would she do this?"_

_"Something isn't right with her, Steve. She's crazy. Don't worry. It's over." Nicholas stroked Steve's hair._

_Steve tried to believe it was over because Clara was gone, but it wasn't over for him. He could never forget something like this. Didn't his dad see that?_

Steve hadn't known where he was going, just that he needed to get away from his dad. His feet carried him back to the Curtis' house, and he was just about to open the door when another memory slammed into him.

_There was a knock at the door, and Nicholas opened it to see a woman he didn't know._

_"Hello? Are you Nicholas Randle?" the woman asked._

_"Yes. Who are you?" Nicholas asked._

_"I'm a friend of Clara's. I'm afraid I have some bad news," the woman said sadly._

_"She doesn't live here anymore," Nicholas said, his voice hard._

_"I know. I mean, I heard you guys got in an argument, and she left, but-"_

_"What's going on, Dad?" Steve asked, coming to stand next to Nicholas._

_"Nothing, Son. Yeah, she's not coming back here," Nicholas said, turning back to the woman._

_"What I'm trying to say is Clara killed herself a couple of days ago. She was staying with me, and I found her. I thought you'd want to know," the woman finally explained why she was there._

_Steve's eyes widened in shock._

_"I think you should go now," Nicholas insisted._

_The woman looked stunned at his lack of emotion, but she started to walk away._

_"Dad, why would she-" Steve started._

_"She was sick, Steve," Nicholas said."Let's not talk about it anymore."_

_Nicholas had no idea that Steve blamed himself for Clara's death now too._

"Steve?" came Darry's voice.

"Darry, I need Soda," Steve pleaded.

Darry took in Steve's tear-stained face and the desperate tone in his voice and immediately went to get his middle brother.

Soda came to the door, giving Steve a concerned look.

"Let me know if you need me, little buddy," Darry told Soda, as he closed the door, leaving them alone.

"What's going on?" Soda asked softly. "It's hasn't been that long since you left. Did something else happen with Evie?"

Steve walked near the edge of the porch, farther away from the front door. "Come over here, Soda. I don't want anyone else to hear me. Please."

"Okay. Buddy, what happened?" Soda was growing more worried as he watched Steve.

Steve was now gripping the porch railing and staring at the ground. He shook like he was terrified.

"Steve? Say something," Soda nudged.

Steve didn't speak, as he covered his face and sank to the ground, curling himself into a ball. Soda heard muffled cries, and he sat down next to his best friend. He laid a hand on Steve's back and was relieved when he didn't flinch away.

"Soda?" Steve asked quietly. "I want to tell you something." He still didn't look up.

"Okay. Tell me."

"It was Clara." Steve's voice broke.

"What was Clara?" Soda leaned closer.

"She hurt me, Sodapop. She hurt me. Then..." Steve struggled to speak.

Soda squeezed his shoulder. "What do you mean, buddy?" he asked.

"She-she touched me...like, you know, in my bed at night," Steve stuttered. "And my dad caught her, then-" he sobbed, unable to say any more.

Soda felt his blood run cold, as he comprehended the meaning of Steve's words. His best friend had been abused in the worst possible way by someone he should've been able to trust. "Buddy, I'm so sorry," he said, at a loss for more meaningful words.

He'd had no idea. Soda had met Clara and had no clue she'd been capable of something like that. Hadn't she played at trying to be like a mother to Steve? That was how she'd gotten close. Nicholas, Soda knew, had been devastated at losing his wife, and he'd tried to build a relationship with Clara. Steve had basically said that much to him when they were kids. But this? He hadn't known because Steve hadn't wanted him to, and they'd been so young. It wasn't like Soda could've suspected. Remembering Steve's mysterious statements about Clara lately, Soda figured Steve had never told a soul. He had questions, but he was afraid of making this harder.

"That's what's been wrong with me, Soda. It's like I can still feel her and hear her, and I can't take it anymore," Steve cried.

"It's okay, buddy," Soda said, knowing it wasn't okay at all.

"My dad told me then to just let it go and that it was over. He didn't want to talk about it anymore. I tried, but I still remember. I don't want to. I was just a little boy!" Steve looked at Soda and wiped his eyes. "Then, she killed herself, and I felt like she died cause of me!"

Soda remembered his conversation with Darry about Clara. Recalling the look on his face, Soda wondered if Darry knew something about her death that Steve hadn't told Soda at the time.

"It's not your fault, Steve. I hope you know that. Like you said, you were just a little boy," Soda said, feeling tears coming to his eyes.

"My dad acted like he blamed me for all of it sometimes. And then, he wanted to just go on like nothing happened. But it did! I can't pretend it didn't."

"And you don't have to. No way your dad blames you. You were just a kid." Tears trekked down Soda's cheeks.

He wanted to help Steve, but he sure didn't know how. That was such a long time to have kept inside the pain and hurt that had afflicted him at the hands of this woman when he'd been a young and vulnerable little boy.

Soda hesitated, but then decided he had to try to offer more comfort. He hoped Steve would let him. He reached for his best friend and eased his arms around him.

Steve fell into the embrace, leaning on Soda as cries continued to rip through him. Soda just held him, feeling his heart break at the sound of his sorrowful crying.

"I hate this so much! I tried to forget!" Steve cried, anger slipping in to mingle with the terrible sadness.

"There are some things you can't just forget, buddy. I'm sorry your dad expected you to do that."

Steve clung to Soda, gripping his shirt, as he sobbed. "It's like it's been trying to eat me up," he said, his face hidden in Soda's chest.

"I know. I'm here for you. You know that. I know I can't help much, but I'm still here."

Soda rested his cheek against Steve's head, as he turned to look at the night sky. He thought of Steve's mom and his own parents. "Please help us, guys. Please help him," he whispered to the stars, still holding onto his hurting best friend.


	7. Chapter 7

_Steve and Soda were playing a game of Go Fish in Soda's room that he shared with Pony._

_"Got any sevens?" Soda asked._

_"Go Fish!" Steve replied triumphantly._

_"Hey, Steve, last time I came to your house, I didn't see Clara, and she's been around all the time," Soda said, as he drew a card from the pile between them._

_If Soda hadn't been looking at his cards so intently, he'd have seen Steve's face pale. He quickly recovered and thought of how he should answer the question. He couldn't tell Soda what had happened to Clara or why she'd left in the first place. He could never tell anyone about what she'd done. Steve didn't want anyone to look at him differently, especially not Soda. He could lose his best friend. Maybe his dad did have a good reason for insisting Steve not talk about Clara at all, not even with him. He was right. They needed to let it go and move on with their lives. Everything would be fine. Steve actually wondered if his dad was trying to convince him or himself though. He'd been drinking a lot lately and talking about Steve's mom more than he had right after she died. Yet, if Steve mentioned Clara or anything that had happened recently, his dad shut him down. Steve told himself that was okay. He could just spend more time at the Curtis' house, away from his dad. Soda's parents made him feel more welcome anyway._

_"She left. Her and my dad got in a big fight," Steve said. It isn't a lie, he thought._

_Soda looked at him quizzically._ _"I thought they got along real good. You must miss her. She seemed nice," he said, laying down a pair of fours._

_Steve stared at his cards, instead of looking at Soda. He would be lying in just a minute. "I_ _ do, but she's not coming back. Um, she kind of..." Steve stumbled over his words. "She got in an accident."_

_"She okay?" Soda asked, noticing that Steve kept looking away._

_"No, man. .She um...she died." Steve's voice was quiet._

_""What? Are you okay? Is your dad okay?" Soda was alarmed that he hadn't known about this._

_"Yeah. I'm fine. My dad is too. Got any threes?"_

* * *

"You all right, little buddy?" Darry asked Soda, who was standing at the counter next to the sink.

"Not really," Soda answered, shaking his head and filling a glass with water.

Soda glanced over at Steve, who was sound asleep on the couch.

"Finally get him to tell you what's wrong?" Darry asked, worried for his brother now too.

"Yeah. I don't think I should tell anyone else though, Dar. It's really bad. God, I wish I'd known before." Soda took a swallow of water and rested his elbows on the counter, hiding his face in his hands.

"It's okay, Sodapop. You don't have to tell me. But it's about Clara though, isn't it? Like Steve kept saying?" Darry put an arm around his brother.

"Yeah, it is. I can't believe this. And I don't even know how to help," Soda said sadly, laying his head on Darry's shoulder.

"Just listen to him, Pepsi Cola. Be there, like you always have been." Darry rubbed Soda's back soothingly. "Look, I don't have to know the details to know he's hurting a lot, but it has to help that he's talking. Something tells me he hadn't before this."

"Dar, it wasn't an accident. Clara killed herself," Soda said suddenly, pulling away to look at Darry.

* * *

_Fifteen year old Darry stood by the front door, gathering his textbooks to put in his backpack. He glanced outside, seeing Mr. Randle and his dad talking. He had been coming around sometimes lately, like he suddenly wanted to be friends with Mr. Curtis. Mr. Randle was a decent guy, but he did have a habit of drinking too much._

_Darry picked up his backpack and headed outside. _ _"Hey, Dad! I'm going to study at Paul's house," he said, referring to his buddy from school. "We'll probably play some ball after." He walked through the grass, as his dad nodded at him and waved._

_Mr. Randle was still talking and Darry paused, catching a few sentences._

_"Clara was crazy, Curtis. Makes me sick to think about it. No wonder she offed herself." Mr. Randle was rambling, a bit tipsy._

_Darry felt his eyes widen. Clara? The Clara that had been living with them? Soda had mentioned her more than once because he saw her often when he hung out with Steve. Did he know about this? Not wanting his dad to think he was listening in on the adults' conversation, Darry sped up his pace. He probably wasn't supposed to have heard that._

* * *

"Wow, Darry," Soda said, stunned at the memory.

"I never mentioned it to you cause I figured it'd be hard to hear. That, and I knew Steve's dad was kind of drunk, and they didn't know I'd heard," Darry explained.

"I understand. I didn't need to know. I was too young. I just wish Steve hadn't been left alone to deal with that and...well, that and everything else." Soda stopped to take a deep breath. "His dad hasn't been any help. Sounds like he wanted Steve to pretend everything was fine. He sure tried too. I remember enough to see that now."

"I wonder why he was saying that to Dad then," Darry said, glancing at Steve to make sure he was still sleeping.

Soda couldn't say this to Darry, but it made him wonder if Mr. Randle had told their dad about the abuse. If he had,perhaps someone had been looking out for Steve back then too. If their dad knew, that may even mean their mom had too. Maybe Steve hadn't been totally alone when his dad had been so set on creating a delusion. Surely, if the Curtis parents knew what happened, they both would've gone out of their way to be there for Steve, without him even needing to know what they were doing or why.

Soda saw Steve stir, but before he went over to him, he wrapped his arms around Darry, hugging him tightly. "Thank you, Darry," he said softly.

"For what, little buddy?" Darry asked, hugging him back.

"For always protecting me and Ponyboy. I know you'd never let anyone hurt us. Not ever."

* * *

_"Dad, my head hurts," Steve said, coming to sit down next to his dad on the bed in his room._

_"You should eat something. Maybe that'll help. It's almost time for bed too," Nicholas replied, as he changed into night clothes._

_"I don't know, Dad. It's been hurting a lot at night. I think it's cause I get scared," Steve said, fidgeting with his pajama top._

_"Nothing to be scared of, Stevie. Everything is fine now. You're all good." Nicholas attempted to reassure his son._

_"I...um...I've been having nightmares too, Dad. I don't know what to do about them." Steve stumbled over his words, unable to look at his dad's face._

_"That's okay, Son. They'll go away with time. They're just bad dreams."_

_"But they're not! They were real! Cause of Clara!"_

_"No. We don't need to talk about her, Steve. It's really better if we don't, believe me."_

_"All right, Dad. I'll try."_

_"If you really have to remember anything, think about your mother instead. She loved you so much." Nicholas gave Steve's shoulder a squeeze._

* * *

Nicholas stared at the nearly empty bottle of whiskey, contemplating all the ways he'd been wrong. He had honestly thought it was best for Steve not to talk about Clara or the abuse itself. He'd thought that was what would be best for himself too because it wasn't like he wanted to hear the details of Steve's suffering. After what Nicholas had walked into the night he'd seen Clara in Steve's room, he'd been so filled with anger and grief, he could hardly stand it. He knew that in trying to move on like nothing had happened, he had hurt his son so much more.

Nicholas hadn't really done what he had encouraged Steve to do either. He had started drinking then, and while he hadn't turned into a non-functional alcoholic, he did rely too much on it to cope and numb his emotions. That wasn't exactly what he'd consider moving on with life. He had tried so hard with Clara and thought he had someone who could love him like Rose and someone who could be like a mother to Steve. Nicholas was angry that any of this horrific situation had happened at all and truly sad about it. He didn't blame Steve, but it was easy to see now why his son would think that he did. He truly hadn't been there for him in the aftermath of Clara's abuse or her death.

Nicholas hoped Steve would come back soon. He had to find a way to help his son heal. "Thank God he has friends who really care," he mumbled to himself, knowing Steve must be with Soda and his brothers.

He leaned over and turned off the lamp, falling into a drunken sleep, as he thought about Steve and how he had to fix this.

* * *

Steve startled awake, seeing that it was still dark outside. He turned to look at the clock and saw that it was after one in the morning.

"Hey, man. You been sleeping okay?" Soda asked from his spot on the floor in front of the couch.

"I was, but something must've woke me up," Steve said, sitting up.

"Sorry. We were trying to be quiet. Me and Darry were talking," Soda said.

Steve's face filled with horror, as he remembered why he'd ended up at the Curtis' house that night. His relationship with Evie was a mess. He'd gotten into a big fight with his dad. Worst of all, Soda knew now.

"Oh my god... I told you. I can't believe I told you," Steve mumbled, as he look away from Soda and twisted the blanket that still covered him.

"Hey," Soda said gently, moving to sit next to Steve and switching on the lamp. "I'm glad you told me. You needed to tell someone about it."

"No. No... Now, you know the worst thing about me, and I didn't want that." Steve shut his eyes.

"Steve. Look at me," Soda leaned forward and caught Steve's gaze, as his eyes opened again. "What Clara did to you was terrible." Soda squeezed his friend's shoulder when he saw Steve flinch at these words. "But it doesn't say anything about who you are at all. You have nothing to be ashamed of, man."

"I didn't tell you back then because I was afraid you might not want to be my friend anymore." Steve still looked at Soda.

"Aw, buddy." Soda felt his heart clench at this admission. "There's nothing that would stop us being friends."

"Soda, did you tell Darry?" Steve asked, seized by the fear at the thought that anyone besides Soda might know what had happened.

"I didn't tell him. He knows something happened, but I didn't say what," Soda assured him. "But you can trust him too, you know."

"I know." Steve nodded. "I'm just not used to anyone knowing about this. My dad always shut me down when I tried to talk about it, so I stopped trying," he said, discouraged at the memory.

"Man, he should've let you talk about whatever you wanted." Soda sighed. "You needed it. You can tell me anything you want. I'd never do that."

"I know you wouldn't. My dad's messed up. He can be a real jerk," Steve said, yawning. "I think I'm going to try to go back to sleep."

"All right, buddy. I'll be in my room if you need me," Soda told his friend before padding down the hallway to his and Pony's room.

Steve lie down and closed his eyes, basking in the feeling of safety that was beginning to surround him. Maybe he'd be able to talk to his dad eventually, but for now, at least he had Sodapop. Steve knew he'd have to go home soon, but the Curtis' house was like a sanctuary where he could seek refuge until he was ready to see his dad again.

* * *

_"Good night, sweetheart," Rose said, as she tucked eight year old Steve into bed._

_"Good night, mom," Steve said, as his mom kissed his head._

_"I love you. Sleep well."_

_"Love you too." Steve's eyes drifted shut, as the lights went out, and Rose closed the door._

_Steve was already asleep, so he didn't hear his dad open the door and look in at him a few minutes later._

_"I love you, Son," Nicholas whispered to the sleeping little boy._


	8. Chapter 8

_Nicholas and Rose sat holding hands on the porch swing._

_Nicholas stared at his wife in the shimmering moonlight, as the swing swayed back and forth. _ _"I love you, Rose," he said softly._

_"I love you too," Rose said, kissing him gently on the lips._

_"Hey, Mom!" Steve yelled, as he burst out the front door. "Bet you can't catch me!" He ran across the porch and into the yard._

_Rose laughed, as she stood and ran after her son. She caught him and tackled him to the ground playfully._

_Steve was giggling, as he rolled away from his mom._

_Nicholas smiled, watching his wife and son rolling around in the grass. He was so lucky._

_"Dad, come play with us!" Steve shouted, jumping to his feet. "We can climb the tree!"_

_"Sure, Stevie. Let's go!" Nicholas called, as he hurried toward Rose and Steve._

* * *

Nicholas pulled into the parking lot of the church he'd so faithfully attended years ago before Rose had died. He got out of the car and dropped to the ground next to a beautiful stained glass window. Looking up, he stared at the shining cross lit up so brightly by the late morning sun. "Lord, help me please. I can't do this by myself," he said, as he turned his gaze to the blue sky above him.

He hadn't cried since right after Rose died, and just like that, eight years worth of buried tears flowed from his eyes.

"I have to fix this, but I don't know how. I want to help Steve," Nicholas cried.

Realizing he didn't need to say any more, Nicholas remained there in front of that window. He cried for Rose, for his own grief, and especially for the suffering Steve had been forced to endure at the hands of the woman his own father had allowed into his life. No one would ever understand how much Nicholas wished he had been able to see right through Clara. But he'd been too selfish and caught up in trying to bring himself happiness. He shivered now when he remembered what she had told him about Nathan and Christopher.

* * *

_"I miss my Christopher so much," Clara said softly, leaning back against her pillow._

_Nicholas put his arm around her and kissed her temple, as he lie down next to her. _ _"Tell me about him and about Nathan. What happened?" he asked._

_"I loved both of them so much, Nicholas. Nathan was to me what Rose was to you. And Christopher..." Clara paused, fighting tears. "I should've been a better mother. Then, Nathan wouldn't have taken him from me."_

_"I'm sure it wasn't your fault. He should've never taken him from you. That's never right."_

_"Nathan said that Christopher told him that my father touched him inappropriately."_

_"And? Did he?" Nicholas asked, sickened at the thought that anyone could hurt a child and certain he couldn't stand it if anyone ever harmed Steve that way._

_"I don't know. Maybe. I know something happened. But when I wouldn't shut my dad out of my life," Clara's voice cracked, and Nicholas stroked her cheek. "Nathan took Christopher and disappeared. I haven't seen them since. It's been three years. Christopher is Steve's age now."_

_"I'm so sorry, Clara. That's a terrible thing for a mother to go through."_

_"It's been really hard, but at the same time, I understand why Nathan did it. I mean, he only wants to protect Christopher," Clara continued through tears._

_Nicholas leaned close to Clara and kissed her tenderly on the lips. She responded by holding his face and deepening the kiss. Nicholas had more questions, but he didn't want to cause her more pain with his curiosity._

_In spite of the questions in his mind, he longed to hold and comfort Clara at the moment, so he continued to kiss her passionately and forgot about the subject of Christopher altogether._

* * *

Nicholas picked himself up off the ground, still staring at the stained glass window.

If only I'd asked more questions, he thought. If only I had no so easily believed her about Christopher. Nathan probably had taken the boy and disappeared, but Clara's story about her father sounded suspicious, in light of the fact she had turned out to be a predator herself. Maybe Clara had abused her own son, or Nathan had come to believe that she would if he didn't get him away from her. Nicholas had no way of knowing what had actually happened with Nathan and Christopher, and he also would never know what had happened to Clara that drove her to be so warm on the outside, yet cruel and selfish on the inside.

Nicholas opened the door of his car and got in, wiping tears from his eyes. He needed to talk to Steve today. He finally felt ready to confront what had happened to his son.

* * *

Evie found she couldn't concentrate on the book she was trying to read. She couldn't stop thinking of Steve. She really missed him. He had never been one to shy away from being affectionate with her, whether it was a kiss or a soft touch.

Evie thought of just days ago when they had lie to next to each other in bed. She knew plenty of girls who had boyfriends who only wanted sex, not really caring what happened before it or afterwards. They had told her as much. Steve wasn't like that though. He genuinely loved Evie, and he'd always hold and cuddle with her when they were together. Given that and the way Steve was so loyal to everyone in his life, it wouldn't make sense that he cheated. That couldn't be why he'd pulled away from her kiss. There had to be another explanation, and Evie had a bad feeling about it.

Steve had always seemed to be so open with her, and Evie couldn't imagine him keeping secrets. He obviously was now though. She regretted their argument and wished she hadn't gotten so angry, but she truly felt hurt. There couldn't be anything Steve didn't think she'd understand, could there?

Evie shook herself from her thoughts and closed the book. She knew Steve would be working at the DX today, but she decided she needed to go see him tonight. She had to make sure he knew she loved him, and he could tell her whatever was bothering him when he was ready.

* * *

_"I feel terrible, Dad! I keep telling you that. Why don't you believe me?" Steve yelled._

_"It's not that I don't believe you, Son. I just-" Nicholas was saying when Steve interrupted._

_"I hate myself! I hate everything!" Steve cried, as he stomped to his room and slammed the door._

_Nicholas went after him immediately. _ _"Steve! Stop it!" he said, coming into his son's room. "You're going to be okay. I promise, Son. Everything is okay." He stood in front of Steve with his hands on his shoulders._

_"No, it isn't okay. Nothing has been okay since Mom died! I keep trying to tell you. She hurt me, Dad. I'm so mad!"_

_"It's all right to be mad, Son. But don't say you hate yourself, please," Nicholas said softly._

_"You don't get it." Steve sighed, giving up. "You know what? I'm fine. I'm going to Soda's."_

_"All right, Son. I'll see you later," Nicholas said, relieved that his son had calmed down._

_He didn't see Steve curled up on the ground just in front of the porch sobbing a few minutes later. He knew he had to let those tears out before he saw Soda or his parents because he just might explode and tell them all of it, even though Steve wanted to believe he was fine too. His dad was wrong about everything being okay now._

* * *

Steve was pumping gas into a customer's car when he saw his dad inside the DX. He was speaking to Soda, who made eye contact with Steve, as he pointed outside.

Great, Dad came to see me, Steve thought.

Nicholas approached with a solemn look on his face. "Son, I'm sorry. For everything," he said.

Steve slammed the gas pump nozzle back into its cradle and waited until the customer drove away before he spoke. "Not here, Dad. I can't do this right now," he said, shaking his head.

"Please let me talk to you soon, Son. I've realized some things."

"You mean you realized what I tried to tell you before?" Steve snapped.

"Well, yeah, and I just want you to know-"

"You know what, Dad? Everything is fine. That's all you want, isn't it?" Steve asked, clearly annoyed.

"No, that isn't it-"

"But it's all I have to give right now." Steve sighed. "Look, give me some time," he added, softening his tone.

"I want you to be really okay."

"I know you do." Steve looked into his dad's eyes. "But it's not going to happen that fast. I'll be home later, okay? I have to get back to work, and you should get to work too," he said, as another customer pulled up.

"All right, Son. I'll see you tonight," Nicholas agreed, walking toward his car.

Soda met Steve's gaze through the station window, silently asking how he was.

Steve shrugged and nodded his head, and Soda sent him a small smile.

* * *

Darry kneeled on the roof of the house his boss currently had them working on, hammering nails into the tiles and thinking about what Soda had said to him.

Of course, Darry would always protect Pony and Soda! He didn't know exactly what had happened with Steve, but with what he did know, it wasn't hard to partially finish painting the picture.

Something had obviously scared Steve, and it involved Clara. If Darry had to guess right now, he'd bet that she hurt him somehow. That would make Soda's appreciative comment make sense. Maybe he felt that Nicholas had let Steve down by not protecting him from that woman.

Pony and Soda weren't even his own children, but the thought of anyone laying a hand on either of them made Darry pound the nail he was hammering even harder.

"Hey, Curtis! Take it easy, man. You don't have to beat it to death," Darry's coworker said, amused.

"Sorry," Darry replied, tossing the hammer down.

Darry thought about Steve again. He remembered when Clara had been around, and he could recall a span of time when it seemed Steve hardly went home. He hadn't thought anything of it at the time, and Soda wouldn't have either. Those two were as close to brothers as they could get without sharing blood.

Then, Darry thought of Nicholas, wondering if he truly hadn't protected Steve. He had only seen Clara from a distance. He'd never even spoken to her. Maybe she had been that good at fooling Steve and his dad. Darry had a hard time imagining not being able to pick up those kinds of bad vibes. If someone could do anything to hard a little boy, surely there would be some kind of sign, right?

Perhaps Clara had been the type of woman who could charm the skin off a snake though, and not even the most perceptive of people could've known. Darry didn't know what she could've done, but if it shook Steve up this much years later, he was scared to find out.

Darry wondered if he should be worried that Soda had met Clara. Being only a kid at the time, he wouldn't have noticed anything unusual or suspicious. Yet, there had to have been clues. If Darry could recall a change in Steve back then, surely Soda would too. He also thought Soda must be looking back at the times he'd met this woman from a different perspective than the one he'd had as a young boy.

Steve was having a tough time, but Darry decided he needed to check on Sodapop too. It couldn't be easy knowing something bad had happened to his best friend, and he'd had no idea.

* * *

Soda watched Steve's dad walk away and went back to stocking the drinks in the refrigerator. It was a hot day, so people had been buying plenty of sodapop.

He smiled at the thought. Sodapop was putting sodapop out for customers to drink. His dad sure had been an original and creative person when it came to naming his two younger sons. Soda actually liked the surprise on peoples' faces when he told them his name.

He looked back outside at Steve, wondering if he'd talk to his dad soon. Soda wouldn't be surprised if Evie came by too. She may have been upset, but she loved Steve. Soda kept thinking about his best friend and the time that Clara had been in his life. He wouldn't have thought he'd remember so much about her or that time, but perhaps some part of him had known something wasn't right.

Soda shuddered when he remembered one night when he had been planning to stay the night at Steve's house. He had told Darry about Clara staring at him. Of course, he saw that night in a totally new and dark way now. Clara had told Soda he was handsome like his dad, and then Steve had jumped in and asked that they go to his house instead. Steve must've wanted to get away from her for the night, and maybe he'd suspected that she might try to hurt Soda too.

In this moment of twisted recollection, Soda felt immensely grateful to his best friend. Even as kids, Steve had definitely looked out for him.


	9. Chapter 9

"Hey, Soda, need a ride home?" Steve asked his friend.

They both happened to be getting off work at the same time that day, and Steve was in no hurry to go home.

"Yeah, but I thought you'd be staying over again tonight. Are you going home?" Soda asked.

They punched out and headed toward Steve's car in the parking lot.

"At least for a little while. I need to grab some stuff anyway, if I do decide to crash on your couch again." Steve said, opening the driver's side door.

"Well, you're always welcome, but you know that." Soda hopped into the passenger seat and shut the door.

"I know. Thanks, buddy." Steve paused to look straight at Soda. "And not just for that. But for being there for me last night. And before this too when I just couldn't tell you." Steve started the car and shifted it into gear.

"That's what I'm here for, man. You'd do the same for me in a heartbeat. Heck, you have done the same for me."

"Yeah," Steve agreed. "But this...this is different, you dig?" he asked, driving in the direction of the Curtis' house.

"Yeah, I dig," Soda confirmed, thought he honestly couldn't imagine. "Hey, when are you going to talk to Evie?"

"I don't know. " Steve sighed. "I mean, what do I say? It's no wonder she thought I was seeing someone else. Man, I didn't mean to pull away from her! It just happened!"

"Steve, she'll understand. Just tell her the truth."

"I guess you're right. I just wish I could be better for her."

"What are you talking about? You've been doing the best you could with a hell of a lot of pain stored up inside, man. And you've been great to Evie. That's why she loves you."

"I don't know. I hope she still will. I love her." Steve smiled sadly, as he pulled into the Curtis' driveway.

"Go talk to her, Stevie. Then, maybe even your dad too. He seemed to really want to," Soda said, as he opened his door.

"Yeah, but he has to give me some time now. See you later!" Steve waved.

"Fair enough. See you!" Soda returned, as he walked to his front door and Steve peeled away.

* * *

Steve was just changing out of his DX uniform when he heard the front door creak open.

"Steve?" came Evie's voice.

"In here!" Steve yelled, pulling on a t-shirt.

Evie came inside and into his bedroom. "Hey," she greeted, standing in the doorway.

"Hi, baby. I'm sorry," Steve said.

"Me too. I just reacted, you know? I felt hurt."

Steve understood what she meant better than she could see right now. He had reacted too. He'd done a lot of that lately. "I understand. Look, Evie, I have to tell you something," he started. "And it's not easy for me." He reached for her hand and clutched it tightly.

"Okay. Come on. Let's sit down," Evie said, leading Steve to the sofa in the living room.

Steve held onto Evie's hand with both of his own, and she squeezed back. "What is it, Steve?" she asked, touching his face gently.

"What I was a kid, my dad had this girlfriend, who lived with us for a while." Steve glanced down at their intertwined hands, then back at Evie.

"Okay. I'm listening."

"Her name was Clara, and she..." Steve trailed off, letting a tear fall. "She came into my room at night, and she touched me..." He stammered, looking away from Evie. "In a way she never should have."

"Oh my God!" Evie cried, feeling her own tears.

"I-I was just eleven. I hadn't talked about it really at all before last night. No one knew, except my dad." Steve let go of Evie's hand and rubbed his face.

"You always could've told me, honey," Evie reassured him.

"I just couldn't tell anyone. I didn't want to think about it anymore, and my dad..." Steve shook his head. "He just wanted to move on, like nothing happened."

"I'm sorry, Steve. I'm sorry that happened to you. I think I understand now." Evie wiped one of his tears away and cupped his cheek.

Steve leaned in and closed his eyes, soaking in Evie's touch, desperate for comfort. "I love you, Evie," he said.

"I love you too."

Steve leaned forward and kissed Evie on the cheek. "Sorry I didn't tell you before. It's hard to talk about. I tried to put it all in the past and pretend it didn't matter," he said, his voice breaking. "But sometimes, it's like I can still feel her hands on me, feel her kissing me like that when I was just a little boy. I never really wanted anyone to know at all."

"How did your dad find out?" Evie wondered.

"He caught her in my bed one night." Steve frowned at the memory and glanced away for a moment.

Steve didn't see the expression on Evie's face change, as she got a sick feeling in her stomach.

"Steve, I have to go. I told my mom I'd be home, and I'm already late," Evie said quickly, getting to her feet. "I'll talk to you later, okay? Maybe I'll see you tomorrow."

"All right," Steve said, though he was afraid he'd just scared Evie away for good. "I love you. Don't forget that."

Evie hurried away and out of the house. What she was feeling now terrified her because she really did love Steve. She couldn't tell him what she was thinking though. He was already dealing with enough pain.

* * *

"_How come you can talk about Mom like that, but I can't talk about anything that's bothering me?" Steve asked his dad._

_Nicholas rested the bottle of whiskey he was drinking in his lap and stared at his son. _ _"What do you mean? You loved your mom. And I miss her so much," he said, seeming confused._

_"I mean you go on about how you miss Mom, and I do too, but why can't I talk about things that bother me?" Steve questioned, seeing Nicholas take a swig of the drink._

_"You can, Son. What do you want to talk about? And I know you miss your mom." Nicholas' speech slurred slightly._

_"I keep telling you that what Clara did-"_

_"Oh. That. Come on, Stevie. I don't want to think about it now." Nicholas dismissed his son's concern._

_"You never do. Mr. Curtis invited me to go fishing with him and Soda tomorrow morning, so I'm sleeping over," Steve explained, not really asking permission._

_"You've been over there a lot more lately."_

_"Well, yeah, Soda's my best friend. Actually, I was over there a lot before now cause they're always nice to me and I didn't want to be here with Clara all the time."_

_"Son..." Nicholas started, seeming to soften._

_"I'll see you tomorrow, Dad." Steve walked to his room to gather the clothes he'd need._

_Nicholas leaned his head back and closed his eyes, thinking about how Rose would handle this so much better._

_Then again, if she were here, Clara never would have been, and there would be nothing to handle at all._

* * *

Nicholas knocked on Steve's closed door. He was about to open it to check on his son when he heard what sounded like a crying, whimpering voice.

"Please stop, Clara. Go away."

Nicholas realized, frightened, that it was Steve's voice. He quickly opened the door, thinking his son had fallen asleep and was having a nightmare. Then, he was mystified at the sight before him. Steve was still crying out, clearly scared, but he was wide awake. What in the world is going on here? Nicholas thought. He wasn't even sure what he should do.


	10. Chapter 10

"Please stop! Leave me alone!" Steve whimpered.

_He felt Clara's hands on him and heard her voice. _ _"You're such a good little boy, Steve." she cooed._

"Steve! It's just me. There's no one else here," Nicholas said.

_Clara kissed Steve's cheek. _ _"Just lie still," she said._

"Please don't touch me anymore!" Steve cried, curling himself into a ball.

"Steve! It's Dad! Come on, just look at me," Nicholas tried again, drawing closer.

"I'm sorry. I'll be good. I promise. I won't tell," Steve sobbed.

Nicholas felt a chill run down his spine. He hadn't ever seen this before, but it was clear to him that, in Steve's mind, Clara was here right now. She was abusing him all over again. "Steve? Son, no one is going to hurt you," Nicholas said, hesitantly reaching out to put a hand on his son's shoulder.

Steve jumped away from the touch at first, but slowly looked up at his dad, his eyes wild with confusion. "Dad?" he asked softly.

"Yeah. It's just me. I promise," Nicholas soothed.

"I thought...I thought it was happening all over again. I could feel her, and I could hear her voice." Steve trembled with tears on his face.

"It's okay, Son. It's just memories."

"But they felt too real, Dad."

"I heard you when I first got to your door. It sounded like you were having a nightmare, but then, I saw you were wide awake."

"It was worse than a nightmare. No dream feels that real."

Nicholas pulled Steve close to him, hugging him tightly. "I'm sorry, Son. If I'd let you talk back then, all these memories wouldn't be so strong."

Steve relaxed in his father's arms, feeling fully back in the present now, even though his heart still pounded. "It's not your fault, Dad," he whispered.

"I'm here for you now. I'll listen to anything you have to say." Nicholas stroked Steve's hair.

Steve didn't say anything more, as he clung to his dad. He'd needed his comfort and reassurance for a long time, and now, he finally had it.

* * *

"Hey, little buddy," Darry said to Soda, as his little brother searched for the mate to a sock he was going to wear to bed.

"Hi, Dar. I'm just looking for-" Soda reached under the bed. "Found it!" He grinned at Darry.

Soda sat down to put the socks on, and he looked at his big brother questioningly. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked.

"Just wondering if you're okay," Darry replied, as if it should be obvious.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Soda shrugged nonchalantly.

"Cause I know you, and I know you care about your friends."

"Nothing happened to me, Darry. I'm not the one in pain. I'm not the one who had to-" Soda exclaimed, before he stopped himself.

"Clara hurt Steve, didn't she?" Darry asked, sitting down next to Soda.

"She did. And I met her. I knew her. I wish I could've-" Soda cut himself off again, realizing he couldn't say any more of what he was thinking without telling Darry the whole truth about what Clara had done to his friend.

"Soda, you were just a kid. I'm really starting to wish I knew what happened. It seems like it's bugging you a lot too."

"I'm just worried about Steve, and I hate that he's been hurting for so long. I mean, he's my best friend. We were just kids, but I wish I could've helped."

"Maybe you did. He doing any better, you think?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure. I'm hoping he'll talk to Evie and fix things with her. His dad too, but that seems even harder." Soda sighed.

"Sounds like it. Both Steve and his dad have had a hard time."

"But he made it harder for Steve."

"I'm sure he did his best, little buddy. It can't be easy when somebody hurts your kid," Darry said, feeling sympathy toward Nicholas Randle.

"No. Steve's dad didn't do his best. He was only worried about himself."

"Take it easy, Soda." Darry put a hand on Soda's shoulder.

"Sorry, Dar. I'm just frustrated. And I can't even say all of why right now," Soda told his brother, deflating.

"I know. Just be there for Steve. I have a feeling he's going to need you even more."

"TwoBit, cut it out!" came Pony's voice from across the house.

Soda broke into a smile. "I wonder what he's up to."

"No telling with TwoBit," Darry added, as they both walked into the living room, where Pony and TwoBit were.

"Why do you want to keep on spooking me like that? Geesh, TwoBit!" Pony said, annoyed.

"What's going on, Pony?" Darry asked.

"TwoBit has made a habit of trying to sneak up behind me," Pony said, rolling his eyes.

"You just gotta be more aware of your surroundings, Pone," TwoBit said flippantly. "I'll see you guys later. Told my mom I'd be home for dinner."

"Bye, TwoBit. Thanks for walking Pony home!" Darry called, as his friend left.

"He's such a goof," Pony said.

"Hey, that's why he's such a fun buddy to have," Soda told his little brother.

* * *

_Soda heard Steve crying out in his sleep from his place on the bottom bunk of his and Pony's bed. _ _"Steve, wake up," he whispered to his best friend, who was tossing and turning in his sleeping bag on the floor._

_Steve's eyes blinked open, and he stared at Soda, confused._

_"Bad dream?" Soda asked._

_"Something like that," Steve replied._

_The door opened, and Mrs. Curtis appeared. _ _"Everything okay, boys?" she asked._

_"Steve had a nightmare," Soda told his mom._

_"Sodapop!" Steve exclaimed, not wanting Mrs. Curtis to treat him like a little kid, who was afraid of the dark._

_"But you were crying in your sleep!" Soda pointed out._

_Steve buried his face in his pillow, embarrassed._

_"Aw, Steve. Come have a glass of water," Mrs. Curtis offered._

_Wanting to get up and out of the dark room and away from the curious stare of his best friend, Steve agreed._

_In the kitchen, Mrs. Curtis handed Steve a glass of cold water. _ _"I didn't want to say this in front of Sodapop, but I wanted to tell you I'm here if you ever want to talk about anything," she told Steve. "My husband is too."_

_Steve bit down on his bottom lip and stared at the kitchen tile._ _"Thanks, Mrs. Curtis," he said softly._

_"You're as much a brother to Soda as Ponyboy and Darry are, sweetie."_

_Steve looked up at Mrs. Curtis, and in that moment, he almost told her who his nightmare had been about. But only almost. If his own father wouldn't talk with him about what Clara had done, why would anyone else want to hear it?_

_He smiled at Mrs. Curtis, as she gave him a hug that made him think of his mother. Steve wasn't sure and was afraid to ask about it, but he thought he heard her voice tremble when she spoke again._

_"And we love you too. So much. You're a great friend to our boy."_

_Steve laid his head on Mrs. Curtis' shoulder, pretending for a second that it was his mom holding him again._

* * *

"Has that ever happened before now?" Nicholas asked Steve, still holding him.

"No. It was like a real nightmare," Steve said.

The experience with his memories had been terrifying. It had actually felt like he was reliving the worst moments of his childhood. He could see, hear, and feel Clara all over again. Steve hadn't known the past could come back at him with that kind of power.

"Evie just left, and I was upset, then...it was like it was happening all over again. It's like I was fighting a ghost, Dad," Steve said.

"You feel like you're sweating too. I wonder how long you were like this before I came in here." Nicholas pulled away and felt Steve's forehead.

"I'm not sick."

"Just making sure, Son. You've been so stressed, and fever can do crazy things," Nicholas pointed out.

"The only crazy one here is me." Steve shook head in disbelief.

"You're not crazy, Stevie. Just stressed and hurting."

"That too."

"You and Evie okay?"

"I'm not sure. I told her about...you know," Steve hedged.

"You can say it, Son. I'm sorry. Clara abused you, and I'm sorry I didn't know she would do that. There's nothing I regret more," Nicholas said, his eyes welling with tears.

"You couldn't have known, but just so you know, I don't blame you that it happened."

"But I'm sorry for how I dealt with it." Nicholas thought for a moment. "Or for how I didn't deal with it at all, and just so damn sorry I ever let that woman into our lives," he said, the anger at himself slipping into his words, as he cried freely.

"Aw, Dad," Steve said, pulling his dad close to him.

Maybe Nicholas had needed the comfort and reassurance as much as Steve had.

* * *

Steve was watching Pony beat Soda at a game of poker when he felt a hand suddenly grab his shoulder. He jumped away and bolted to the other end of the couch, heart beginning to pound.

"TwoBit!" Soda scolded. "You need to stop sneaking up on people like that! Man! I didn't even hear you come in here."

He looked at Steve worriedly. He had told Soda about the experience with the memories and the fear that had accompanied it. It couldn't be good for TwoBit to spook Steve like that right now.

TwoBit hadn't meant to scare his buddy that much. He was only joking. "Steve? I'm sorry. I was only messing with you," he apologized.

"What happened?" Darry asked, coming into the room and seeing Steve pale with his eyes tightly shut.

"TwoBit's being a pain," Pony mumbled, setting his cards down.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know he was going to be like that," TwoBit insisted, confused at Steve's behavior.

Soda tossed his cards down onto the coffee table and went over to Steve. "Are you okay, buddy?" he asked, kneeling next to him.

"No," Steve managed to say, clutching his chest. "Can't breathe," he struggled to add.

"Let's get him outside," Darry said immediately, moving forward to help Steve up.

TwoBit watched, as Darry and Soda walked Steve onto the back porch and felt shame wash over him.

"Hey, TwoBit, I'm not sure what's happening, but no way is that your fault," Pony said softly. "There's something else going on with Steve."

* * *

"Just try to breathe, man. It was just TwoBit," Soda soothed, sitting beside his friend.

Steve continued to breathe shallowly and quickly.

"Deep breaths. Take it slow," Darry said, from Soda's other side.

Darry knew what was happening. Steve was having a panic attack. Soda may not have remembered, but their mom's aunt had had them a few times when she was visiting them. She used to come over often when he was twelve or so, and he had watched his mom calm her.

"There you go," Soda encouraged, his hand on Steve's arm, as his breathing evened out.

"Still feel like I can't get enough air," Steve said.

"Give it a few minutes. Soda, make sure you give him some space too," Darry said, knowing his brother would want to get closer than he should at the moment.

"He's good, Dar," Steve said, running a hand through his hair, taking more deep breaths, as the surge of fear began to ebb away.

"Was that what you were talking about earlier?" Soda asked Steve, who shook his head.

"No, this actually wasn't nearly as scary. I just got spooked and panicked," Steve said, some color returning to his face.

"This ain't about TwoBit, is it?" Darry asked, already knowing the answer.

"Sure ain't," Steve replied, unsure what he should tell Darry.

"What happened to you, Steve?" Darry asked.

"Hey, he okay?" came TwoBit's anxious voice, as he pushed the door open.

"Yeah, TwoBit, I'm all right," Steve answered, "It wasn't you, man," he tried to assure his friend.

"I'm still sorry," TwoBit said glumly, as he went back inside.

Steve sighed. This was not the day he'd wanted to have with his buddies.

"Steve, tell me what that was about," Darry said softly.

"He's going to figure it out eventually, buddy," Soda commented.

It was true, but Soda also just wanted Darry to know what Clara had actually done and why Steve was still suffering.

Steve met Darry's gaze and felt the hot summer sun beating down on them. "Are you sure you want to hear this?" he asked.

"No. But I know you need to say it. You're Soda's best friend," Darry said. "But you're my buddy too, and I want to help."

With that, Steve began to tell Darry everything he had told Soda about Clara, his dad, and also about the horrible onslaught of memories he had experienced.

After Steve was finished, Soda saw Darry looking at him like he was reading his mind.


	11. Chapter 11

_"I really like you, Steve," Evie said, taking her boyfriend's hand._

_"I like you too," Steve said, kissing her cheek._

_"I packed plenty of food." Evie pulled away from the kiss and opened the picnic basket._

_"Good. I'm starved." Steve grabbed one of the sandwiches.._

_"You always are." Evie giggled and rolled her eyes._

_"It's really nice out here," Steve commented between bites._

_"I love it," Evie said, admiring the tall trees and the wavy green grass that surrounded their spot next to the creek._

_"Evie, will you be my girlfriend?"_

_"Yes! I will! I was hoping you'd ask." Evie smiled._

That had been their first official date after months of hanging out together. It was over a year ago now.

Evie smiled sadly, wondering if it had been hard for Steve to even let a woman touch him after what he'd been through.

Steve had never rushed things with her physically. She truly appreciated that about him, but now, she thought there may be another layer of reason behind that.

As soon as Steve had mentioned that he could feel Clara's hands still touching him and could feel her kissing him, Evie's stomach had dropped. His dad had caught that woman in his bed with him, and Steve had obviously been traumatized by the entire ordeal from that time in his life.

Evie wasn't upset with Steve in the least, but this bothered her in a way that she couldn't explain to him right now when he must have so much going on in his head. She couldn't burden him with her thoughts. It wasn't his fault, after all.

Evie enjoyed being with Steve, and that hadn't changed, but she couldn't help but think that his view of her must be distorted. What did he think about when she touched him? Did he have to fight memories of abuse whenever they were together? Evie didn't want to be the one to remind Steve of Clara. She wanted to be his girl, but she was afraid of hurting him even more. That was the last thing Steve deserved.

Steve had said he was eleven when all of this happened. Was their intimate relationship a reason it was bothering him now? Evie felt nauseous just thinking about it. She'd never touch Steve again if it would bring back such horrid memories for him.

"TwoBit took a while to calm down earlier," Pony said, as he stretched out on the bed next to Soda.

"I bet," Soda replied, not turning over to look at his little brother.

"Soda, is Steve all right?"

"I don't know, Pone, " Soda said, burying his face into his pillow.

"Are you?"

"I don't know that either." Soda's voice broke, as tears started falling.

"I'm sorry I asked. Please don't cry." Pony laid his head against Soda's shoulder and tossed an arm over him.

Darry looked in at them, saw Soda's flowing tears, and sighed. "Oh, little buddy, I knew this was coming," he said. "Pone, could you give us a minute?"

"Yeah, but please don't leave me in the dark forever," Pony said, as he left his brothers alone.

Darry shut the door before kneeling down next to Soda and rubbing his back soothingly. "Shh. It's okay," he said. "Steve's going to be all right."

"I wish I could've helped, Darry. I wish I could've stopped it," Soda cried. "I was around her, and me and Steve were always together, but I had no idea."

"I know, Soda. But you couldn't have known," Darry reassured him.

Soda felt a surge of anger. "And his dad! How could he try to act like nothing happened? It's like Steve was all alone."

"But he wasn't alone. You were still there. And you know what I think?" Darry asked, thinking of what he had overheard Nicholas Randle say to his dad.

"What?" Soda asked, sitting up and drying his tears.

Darry pulled himself up to sit next to Soda. "I think Mom and Dad knew. I told you about Steve's dad talking to our dad that day about how Clara died, so maybe he said more than that," he said.

"I hope so. They would've looked out for Steve even more if they did know about really happened." Soda took a shuddering breath. "Maybe he wasn't so alone then."

"Can I ask you something that might be hard to think about?" Darry asked, thinking of his conversation with Soda the first night Steve had mentioned Clara when he was drinking.

"Okay," Soda answered hesitantly.

"You said you saw Clara staring at you. Do you think she...?" Darry couldn't finish the question, but knew Soda would understand what he was trying to ask.

"Yeah. I do," Soda said, feeling a chill shoot through him when he remembered Clara's stare that had seemed so harmless. "She was telling me I was handsome like Dad. Then Steve, out of nowhere, asked if he could come to our house instead."

"He didn't want her to hurt you."

"We left so fast, she didn't get a chance to say another word." Soda sighed, feeling his tears return.

"Doesn't surprise me a bit, Sodapop. You've always been the brother Steve never had."

"I just wish I could've done the same thing for him." Soda choked on a sob.

Darry fiercely pulled him into an embrace, letting his little brother cry into his chest. "I know you do. But I'm so glad she didn't get a chance to hurt you, Pepsi Cola," he said fervently, trying to hold back his own emotions at the thought of anyone hurting Sodapop.

_"What are you boys up to?" Rose asked Steve and Soda._

_"We're going to the park to play football, Mom," Steve said._

_"Yeah, Keith's coming too. And Darry's going to teach us some of what he's learned on the team at his school," Soda said happily._

_"Sounds fun! Be back in time for dinner, Stevie," Rose said, smiling at the boys._

_"Oh! I forgot my jacket," Steve said, running back inside._

_"Soda, keep an eye on him, will you? He gets nervous throwing the ball when everyone's watching," Rose said quietly._

_"Always, Mrs. Randle," Soda replied._

_Steve came running back outside, his jacket on this time._

_"Have fun, boys," Rose yelled, as they headed in the direction of the park._

_She touched her forehead, feeling a sudden sharp pain. Maybe I just need a nap and something to eat, she thought, also beginning to feel nauseous._

"Hey, what's-" Soda stopped. "Nevermind," he rushed to say, shoving the photo he'd found out of sight.

"What?" Steve asked.

They had been looking through Steve's old yearbooks, laughing at the school pictures they'd taken over the years.

"Just a picture. No big deal. I don't know how it got shoved in here," Soda said quickly. "Hey, look at this. Do you remember that dance?" he asked, shoving another yearbook at Steve.

"What was in the picture?" Steve insisted.

Soda sighed, holding it out to him.

"Oh," Steve said, understanding Soda's hesitation now.

It was a photo of Clara and his dad. Steve stared at it for a moment before Soda pulled it back out of his sight.

"Hey, why don't we go make some lunch?" Soda asked, wanting Steve to forget seeing that photo.

"Lunch was a long time ago, man! Try dinner! You don't have to try so hard, Soda. I'm okay. I haven't had any more panic attacks or..." Steve trailed off, wondering what to call the other scarier incident. "Memory attacks," he decided to say.

Darry had told him about his mom's aunt having panic attacks, so at least he understood what that was. As for feeling like he was reliving his worst memories, Steve didn't know the term for it. He wasn't sure there was one, and he just considered it a high-powered nightmare that took place when he was awake.

"All right," Soda said, stacking the yearbooks. "Hey, have you talked to Evie again?"

"I've called her, but she doesn't say much. It's like she doesn't know what to say to me or something."

"I'm sorry, man. It honestly surprises me though. I think she'll come around."

There was a small rumble of thunder, and Steve glanced out his bedroom window. "Sounds like we're in for a storm," he said.

"Must be all this heat. It's after dark and still hotter than Hades out there," Soda said, going to stand by the window.

A bolt of lightning flashed brightly across the sky.

"You need to get away from there, man." Steve laughed. "It'll blind you."

"Yeah. I'm seeing dots. Looks cool out there though. I like watching it." The rain began to pour down. "I'm going to grab a snack. I'll be right back."

Soda headed to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, just as there was another flash of lightning, and the lights blinked twice before going out completely.

Evie gazed at herself in the bathroom mirror, as she applied her eye shadow and mascara.

She was going with a few friends to hang out at the bowling alley. She felt like she needed a girls' night.

Maybe if Evie could talk with friends and bowl a few games, she'd stop thinking about Steve so much. She really missed him, and she felt bad for avoiding seeing him. It was just that she need a little time to figure things out for herself.

"Hey, Evie, it's raining out, so be sure to grab your umbrella," her dad yelled from his office.

"Sure, Dad! Thanks!" Evie replied, as she applied a little bit of shiny lip gloss.

Evie was going to go out for the night to talk with the girls and bowl and forget about what was on her mind. That's what she told herself anyway, and it was honestly her only intention.

"Steve, you got a flashlight, man? It's almost too dark to see!" Soda yelled. "Steve?" he tried again, not getting an answer.

The thunder was roaring again when Soda got back to Steve's room.

"Hey, do you-" Soda stopped when he saw Steve pressing himself against the wall, as if trying to hide. "What's going on?" he asked.

Steve didn't reply. He only looked around wildly, pulling his knees close to his chest, as he shook with fear.

"Steve?" Soda tried again, looking into Steve's eyes and inching just a little closer.

He knew this must be what his friend had told him about. Memories had flooded him, and he was trapped with Clara all over again in his mind.

Steve could see Clara lying close to him.

"Just go away," he pleaded.

"It's just me, Steve. No one else is here right now," Soda said softly.

"No, please, you're hurting me," Steve cried, and Soda fought not to draw too close to his friend.

"You know I'd never hurt you," Clara said sweetly, and Steve felt her kiss his temple.

Steve didn't speak again, as he shut his eyes tightly.

"No one is going to hurt you, buddy," Soda insisted, kneeling about a foot in front of Steve. "Come on, open your eyes. She's not here. I promise."

Steve did open his eyes, looking right at Sodapop. He could still feel his heart pounding, as he glanced around the dark room and heard the pouring rain. "Soda?" he questioned, taking a deep breath.

"Yeah, it's only me." Soda finally settled next to Steve and rested a hand on his shoulder. "That's what you told me about, ain't it?"

Steve only nodded and bowed his head, feeling himself shaking.

"Hey, where's your flashlight? It keeps getting darker. No telling when the power will come back on," Soda said.

"That bottom drawer." Steve pointed to a chest of drawers not far from them.

Soda opened the drawer and pulled out the flashlight, switching it on.

"Come on, Soda, don't shine it in my face! It's kind of bright, man!" Steve exclaimed, shielding his face.

"Oh. Sorry," Soda apologized, pointing away from them and setting it down, before he sat back returned to his spot next to Steve. "Are you okay?" he asked, serious again.

"I guess so. I don't know. I don't know how to stop the memories. It's like I'm reliving it. She's dead, and here I am reliving it! It feels that real, and I get all confused." Steve sighed, wanting to cry again, but not letting it happen.

"Stevie, you're not going to want to hear this, but do you know what I think you should do?"

"What?" Steve wondered.

"I think-" Soda stumbled over his words. " I think you should talk to someone. I mean, you know, someone who knows about this stuff and can help."

Steve shook his head fiercely, his eyes wide with fear. "No. I can't talk to a stranger. No way, Sodapop!" he nearly yelled.

"Just think about it. It might be better than you think."

"No, I can't. It was hard enough to tell you what happened to me. I can't tell some shrink, who will just see me as another head case!"

"Just think about it, please. That's not how anyone will see you."

"Please just drop it!" Steve jumped to his feet and started pacing. "I wish I'd never told you or anybody else. Especially not Evie!"

"Steve, please calm down. I was only trying to help. You know that, and I'm not sorry at all that you told me." Soda also got to his feet.

"Nothing helps! I can't do this anymore!" Steve cried forcefully, before he grabbed the lamp from his table and hurled it at the window, shattering the glass. He moved forward and raised his fist at what was left of the window.

Soda quickly reacted and grabbed Steve's arm, pulling him back. "It's definitely not going to help if you cut up your hand in a window, man," he said.

Wind and rain blew through the broken window, and Steve jerked himself away from Soda, pacing across the room. "I hate all of this, Soda! Why did she have to do it? I hate these damn memories she left me," he shouted, as he began to pound his fists into the wall.

"I hate it too, Steve! But it's not going to be this hard forever!" Soda yelled, feeling powerless against the pain that had seized his friend so violently.

Steve pounded the wall with his fists over and over, but the hard hits faded into soft taps, as he cried more and pressed his face against the wall. "I just want it to stop," he sobbed.

Soda came up behind Steve and wrapped his arms around his best friend. He still held on when Steve let himself drop to his knees, weak from the emotions rippling through him.

"I've been trying so hard, man," Steve cried, clutching onto Soda's arms that held him.

"I know, buddy. I know." Soda felt Steve tremble weakly.

"It just hurts so much, Sodapop."

Soda felt his chest actually ache at the pain in Steve's voice and fought back tears, as he spoke again. "I know it does. I'd do anything to make it better. Please just remember me and the gang all love you. Your dad loves you too." He leaned his head against Steve's shoulder and closed his eyes, as if he could will his friend to feel comforted.

"I wish my dad had never met her, then I wouldn't be like this."

"I hate that you're hurting, buddy. But just don't forget I'm always here for you. You have to hang on, okay?" Soda still didn't let go.

"I don't know if I can."

Soda shifted, so he sat in front of Steve, hands still on his shoulders. "You can. I promise you're going to be okay. You'll get through this."

Suddenly, the lights blinked back on, and Steve stared at Soda with his eyes red and tears still sliding down his face. "I hope you're right, man, cause I can't take much more," he said, taking a deep breath, as he saw some wind and rain still blowing into the window he'd broken.


	12. Chapter 12

_Rose lie stretched out on her bed, holding her head, when Nicholas came in and flipped on the light. She groaned, feeling her head pounding with even more pain, and buried her face in her pillow. "Please turn that off!" she cried._

_"You okay, honey?" Nicholas asked, flipping the light switch back down._

_"My head hurts so badly," Rose said quietly._

_Nicholas lie down next to her, stroking her face. "You feel awfully hot too. Let me grab you some medicine to take, then you can get some rest."_

_Nicholas went to find the medicine in the bathroom, as Rose wrapped her shivering body tightly in her blankets and closed her eyes, hoping the pain would stop._

_When he returned, Nicholas kneeled next to Rose, holding some pills and a glass of water. "Here, sweetheart. This will help the fever and the pain," he said softly, hating to see his wife hurt._

_Rose opened her eyes and sat up slightly, as her husband helped her take the medicine. "Thanks, sweetie," she said, lying down and closing her eyes again._

_"You're welcome, Rose. Get some sleep." Nicholas placed a gentle kiss on her forehead._

"Just go lie down, Steve. I got this," Soda said, referring to the glass he was now sweeping up.

"But you-" Steve tried to say.

"Buddy, you're exhausted. Let me help you."

Steve sighed, giving up. He hated this because he'd been the one who made this mess, the one who'd had a terrible meltdown. He was feeling guilty about how he had acted now.

"Please, Steve," Soda insisted, as Steve still stood there.

He wanted to do anything that would help his friend, and he didn't think Steve standing here remembering the emotional meltdown he'd had tonight would help him at all.

"All right, I'll be on the couch," Steve finally said. "Thanks, Sodapop. I don't know what I'd do without you, man."

"I do."

"Oh yeah?" Steve raised an eyebrow.

"You'd put your hand through a window, and Darry would have to stitch you up," Soda quipped, grinning.

Steve smiled a little, and Soda felt like maybe he'd accomplished something tonight.

When Nicholas came in from his shift at the grocery store, Steve was sound asleep on the couch, and Soda was just a few feet away watching TV.

"Steve's sleeping early," Nicholas observed.

Soda sighed."Rough night," he mumbled.

"Oh. How so?" Nicholas asked, sliding off his shoes and sitting on the end of the couch next to his son's feet.

He listened to Soda tell him about the power going out, then Steve seemingly reliving Clara's abuse.

"Sounds like what happened last time. I'm worried about that," Nicholas said, gazing at Steve's sleeping face.

"But it got worse. I was worried he was going to hurt himself or something. He got so angry, then just cried and cried," Soda began, filling Nicholas in on how Steve's erupting emotions had made him lose control.

"That can't be good." Nicholas sighed, troubled by what he was hearing.

"I think I might not have helped just before. I told him, after the memory thing, that I think he should talk to someone who can help a lot more," Soda admitted.

"Sodapop, this has been coming for a long time. It didn't matter what you said, but you're right. Steve needs to talk to somebody. It's just not something he wants to see yet." Nicholas felt guilt tug at him once again.

"I'm glad I was here. It could've been worse. Maybe he even needed to get all of that off his chest." Soda was still trying to shrug off his anxiety about the distress Steve had expressed. "I'm going to call Darry and see if he'll come get me," he said, getting to his feet and going toward the phone.

"Thank you, Soda. You're a real good friend. I know I've been a jerk a lot, and it makes me feel better to know Steve has always had you and your brothers in his corner."

"Goes both ways, Mr. Randle." Soda dialed his number.

"I've known you forever, and you're going on eighteen. Call me Nicholas."

Soda grinned, as he heard Darry pick up and asked him for a ride home from Steve's house.

"Your parents would be so proud of you," Nicholas said softly, after Soda hung up the phone.

"Thanks," Soda told him, before going outside to wait for Darry.

Nicholas pulled the folded blanket on the back of the couch over himself, curling up next to Steve's feet. There wasn't much space, but he didn't care. He just wanted to stay close to his son.

Evie watched as her bowling ball rolled quickly down the lane, knocking down nine pins.

"Almost!" Evie's friend, Patricia, yelled. "You should be able to get that one!"

Evie picked up the bowling ball, eyeing the pin, as she let it roll once again. "Got it!" she shouted, clapping for herself. "You're up, Maria!" she called to her other friend.

Evie sat down at the little table close to their lane.

"Hey there!" a guy she didn't know said, holding out his hand to shake hers. "I'm Kenneth."

"Hi, I'm Evie," she said, watching Maria get a strike.

Kenneth sat down in the chair next to Evie. "You like bowling, huh?" he asked her, as Evie was watching her friend, Judith, take her turn.

"Yeah, I have since I was a kid," Evie replied, smiling at him.

"Me too. We should come together sometime. Hey, could I get you a drink? Coke or something?"

"Um," Evie started to reply, but Patricia was yelling for her to come take her turn. "I'll be right back," she said, going to grab her bowling ball.

Evie was just about to roll the ball down the lane when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"What do you think you're doing?" Patricia asked Evie.

"Hopefully, getting a strike this time?"

"Not the game, Evie! I mean that guy! I heard him. He practically asked you out!" Patricia exclaimed.

"Oh," Evie said, shocked that she'd been so set on not thinking about Steve, she had nearly forgotten about him altogether.

"He's been ogling you since we got here. What about Steve? I know you love him," Patricia said, softening her tone.

"I do. I just...I wasn't thinking." Evie blinked away tears, as she realized she needed to see Steve soon.

If Patricia hadn't yelled for her when she did, Evie wondered if she would've kept talking to Kenneth. She hadn't even realized what she was getting too close to doing. She came here to hang with her friends, not pick up a guy. She couldn't let one try to pick her up either. Evie could never hurt Steve like that . He was too faithful and loyal of a person to deserve even a hint of betrayal. Besides, he'd experienced the worst of that already.

"You okay, Evie?" Patricia narrowed her eyes critically.

"Yeah. Well, I will be anyway." Evie finally rolled the bowling ball down the lane.

"Hey, you're really good!" Kenneth yelled, as all ten pins fell.

"I should tell you I have a boyfriend. A really great one. I'm not available for a drink. I'll get my own," Evie said, turning to walk toward the small restaurant in the bowling alley.

Kenneth started to move back toward his group of friends, realizing he didn't want to mess with another guy's girl. "All right. Good meeting you though," he said, waving.

Evie didn't wave back, as she glanced at Patricia, who was smiling at her.

_Nicholas stood just inside Steve's bedroom door, watching his son sleep. Steve had no idea he did this, but he had often since right after Clara left._

_He'd stare at Steve's innocent, sleeping face, thinking of Rose and hoping she was watching over them. Sometimes, Steve would toss and turn, and Nicholas knew that must be because of nightmares he had been having._

_Nicholas knew he should put the whiskey down more often and just be with Steve, but he still found himself drinking anyway. Just a little bit of alcohol made his own grief, anger, and guilt more manageable._

_For weeks after hearing about Clara's death, Nicholas had visited Rose's grave nearly everyday. He knew she wasn't really there, but he still liked talking to her grave marker. He liked thinking she could help them from her place in Heaven._

Nicholas remembered how he'd watched Steve slowly become more like himself again. A couple of months after Clara was gone, he'd seemed happier and not so angry. He had stopped even trying to talk about what had happened with Clara, and Nicholas had taken this to be a good sign. Maybe his son had adjusted and found some semblance of normal, in spite of his mom's death and Clara's abuse. Kids were resilient, after all.

Nicholas thought back over the past couple of years. He couldn't know for sure, but it would make sense if Steve's childhood memories had started to come out of hiding when Mr. and Mrs. Curtis died. They'd been like second parents to him, and even though he'd never gotten around to telling them, Nicholas appreciated that. It had always helped him to know there were other people he could trust to love his son, even if he didn't seem so good at it himself.

Then, when Ponyboy Curtis and Johnny Cade had gotten into trouble almost a year ago now, Steve and all of those boys had a very rough time. It had been bad enough when Pony and Johnny were missing, but when Johnny and Dallas Winston died, Steve had been a mess.

Losing two friends like that couldn't have been easy and especially not when Steve had experienced the loss of his mom at such a young age. If Nicholas had to guess, he'd say both the trauma of seeing his friends suffer the loss of their parents and then losing two buddies had made Steve begin to unravel with pent up pain and resurfacing memories.

Steve began to toss and turn in his sleep and almost rolled right off the couch. He startled awake just in time and stared back at Nicholas. "Oh, man," he murmured, grabbing his head.

"You all right, Son?" Nicholas asked him.

"I was having a nightmare. The same one I used to have when I was a kid. Is this never going to stop?" Steve muttered. "Where's Soda?"

"He went home a couple hours ago. What's the dream about?"

"Dad, you really don't want to know. Why don't you go to bed? It can't be too comfortable right there." Steve stretched, then closed his eyes again.

"I do want to know, and I'm fine. Come on, Son, talk to me," Nicholas insisted.

"Fine." Steve opened his eyes. "I dream that I'm in my bed, and Clara is next to me again, but this time, she's dead."

Nicholas blinked, actually feeling shocked. He hadn't been expecting that at all.

"I told you you didn't want to know," Steve added, turning over.

"No, I just... I just didn't know you thought about that anymore. That part, I mean," Nicholas said, recovering from the shock and still trying to shake off that mental image.

"I didn't for a long time, but I felt guilty hearing that she died back then. I mean, it's not like I miss her or anything. She was an awful person, but still."

"Guilty? Why, Son? You didn't do anything wrong." Nicholas was puzzled by the admission.

"I don't know, Dad. I was just a kid. But knowing someone felt bad enough to want to die is hard. I mean, no one deserves that."

If anyone in the world ever did deserve to feel that bad, it was Clara, Nicholas couldn't help thinking. "Aw, Son, it wasn't your fault," he said. "I hope you know that. You were just a little boy."

"You sound like Sodapop," Steve mumbled.

"Well, I'll take that as a compliment," Nicholas replied, seeing Steve grin a little bit. "But it's true. Nothing that happened was your fault. I didn't know you ever thought that."

"Like I said, I was a kid."

"Steve, tell me you don't still feel guilty." Nicholas met Steve's eyes.

"I can't, Dad. Back then, I thought I must've done something or there must be something about me that made her-" Steve was saying before his dad cut him off.

"No," Nicholas said loudly, pulling Steve's arm to make him sit up and look directly into his face. "You were a little boy. She was wrong, not you!" His face was just inches from Steve's.

"Did Soda tell you what happened tonight?" Steve asked, looking away.

"He did."

"I wish I hadn't lost it like that," Steve whispered.

"It's okay, Son." Nicholas released his arm and patted his shoulder.

"If Soda didn't think I'm crazy already, he must now."

"Why would he think that?" Nicholas wondered.

"Cause I'm nuts over memories of something that happened when I was a kid. Then, I got mad and broke a window with a lamp." Steve paused, shaking his head. "No wonder he thinks I should see a shrink."

"Son, that's not what Soda thinks about you at all, and you know it. That's not why he suggested that either."

"Did he seem upset?" Steve asked hesitantly.

"Not angry or anything, if that's what you mean. He seemed worried. Why don't you get some sleep? We can talk more tomorrow."

He had already agreed with Soda that Steve needed to talk to someone who could help much more and could make sense of what was going on, but now, he was scared of what could happen if he didn't do it soon. Steve couldn't keep living with that shame and guilt or with these overwhelming memories that were haunting him both when he was awake and asleep.


	13. Chapter 13

_Soda swung the bat, and it slammed against the baseball Nicholas had pitched to him._

_"Run, Soda!" Nicholas shouted, as Steve rushed to retrieve the ball._

_Soda slid into first base, just as Steve tossed the ball back to Nicholas._

_"All right! Your turn, Son!" Nicholas yelled to Steve, as he walked back to his spot on the field._

_"Remember when we used to play like this with Mom, Dad?" Steve asked, picking up the bat._

_"Sure do, Steve. We had a lot of fun," Nicholas replied, pitching the ball._

_As he watched Steve swing the bat, he thought about how happy his son looked. Maybe everything really was okay now. He'd been telling Steve that for a while, as if he believed saying it would make it true._

_The bat made contact with the ball, and it soared up high. Soda ran to meet it and grabbed it out of the air just before Steve got to second base and sat down on it._

_Soda only laughed when Steve wouldn't move. He was oblivious to the worst details of what his best friend had been through, but he was still glad to see him having fun._

Soda dribbled the basketball, then aimed for the basket above him.

"Hey, man," Steve greeted, as the ball teetered over the top of the goal, then slid into the basket. He caught it and dribbled a few times, before shooting and making a basket himself.

"Nice one. What brings you here?" Soda asked, catching and holding the ball.

"Darry told me you were shooting hoops, and I figured the park would be the place for that. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry about last night."

"There's nothing to be sorry for." Soda sat down on a nearby bench with the ball in his lap.

"Well, I was acting crazy." Steve took a seat next to Soda.

"You weren't," Soda insisted, shaking his head. "Man, if it makes you feel better to break something once in a while and cry, I'll be right there beside you every time."

"Still. Sorry if I worried you."

"Quit apologizing. I was a lot more worried when you wouldn't talk about anything. Did you think anymore about what I said?"

"Yeah." Steve sighed. "I just feel like there's no way out of this mess in my head. And, I don't know, I guess I'm scared."

"I get it, but so am I." Soda turned the basketball over in his hands.

"Why?" Steve wondered.

"Do you know what it's like to hear somebody talking and almost crying like something is really hurting them when nothing is happening? It was almost like you were hallucinating." Soda stared at Steve, then looked up at the clouds.

"Oh," Steve said, as if he hadn't thought of it that way before. "It is scary, but it's more like part of me is here and another part is back there again. It's like I know it's over, but it'll feel real again. Too real." Steve shivered at the thought of his memories attacking him.

"So just think about it, please. You need to talk to someone who will get it and know what to do."

Soda didn't say it, but he was also thinking of the way Steve had cried. He wouldn't tell him how that had just about killed him inside. It hadn't even been just the tears, but the words Steve had spoken too. He had sounded so broken and agonized by the trauma that continued to plague him. Soda remembered holding onto his best friend so tightly and figured maybe part of the reason he had was because he thought he himself might fall apart too.

"I'll think about it," Steve agreed. "Soda, would you come with me somewhere?" he asked.

Nicholas picked up the ringing phone. "Hello?" he said.

"Hi, it's Evie. Can I talk to Steve?" Nicholas heard her ask.

"I'm sorry. He's not here right now. I'll tell him to call you back later though," Nicholas said, hearing Evie sigh.

"Okay. Thanks, Mr. Randle," Evie said, sounding near tears.

"Are you okay, Evie?" Nicholas asked.

"Yeah. I think so. I just really need to talk to Steve."

"I'm sure he'll want to talk to you too. I'll tell him you called, I promise."

After exchanging good-bye's, Nicholas hung up the phone. He genuinely hoped Steve and Evie would be okay. He'd always thought Evie seemed good for his son, and he knew Steve really cared about her.

Nicholas remembered what he'd shared with Rose and hoped Steve could find the same treasured bond of love with Evie. After his discovery of Clara's abuse, Nicholas realized he hadn't fallen for her so much as he'd fallen for the idea of another loving romantic relationship. She'd just happened to pop into his life when he and Steve were both so vulnerable. Nicholas shook his head, reflecting on the fact that Clara had probably known exactly what she was doing soon after he'd met her in the store that day.

A meeting in a grocery store should never change anyone's life that much, Nicholas thought. He'd told himself he would put down the bottle for good, but thinking about Clara made him also think about how she'd hurt Steve. That remembrance made him crave the numbing nothingness alcohol offered him.

Nicholas reached into the kitchen cabinet, taking out the bottle of whiskey. He knew his relationship with Steve was on the mend, but the way he felt about himself still needed to be fixed.

He surmised that seeing Steve begin to truly recover would go a long way toward his own healing, but his son wasn't there yet. Until Steve found a way to silence the breathtaking panic, torturing memories, and the awful shame that still haunted him, Nicholas would drink to feel the burn of the alcohol that gave him a temporary escape.

Nicholas took a swig of the whiskey and looked up, whispering another prayer for Steve. When God helped his son feel better, maybe he'd think of him again too. He thought of the church parking lot and that beautiful stained glass window and figured his kitchen was just as good a place to send a plea to Heaven.

_"Hi, I'm Clara," a woman said to Nicholas, as he handed the cashier the money for his groceries._

_"I'm Nicholas," he said, wondering why she was talking to him._

_Clara just happened to be walking by with a cart full of groceries she'd already paid for and was about to take to her car._

_"Can I help you with something?" Nicholas asked her, realizing she was still standing there._

_"I don't know. You just look familiar."_

_Nicholas picked up his two bags of groceries, thinking Clara was awfully pretty. "I used to work here. Maybe you saw me then," he said._

_"Maybe. When was that?" Clara asked, walking with him toward the door._

_"Just a couple of years ago was when I quit. I'd been here for three or four years by then."_

_They walked into the parking lot._

_"Yeah, I think that's it." Clara went toward her car, while Nicholas began to move toward his own that was just a few parking spaces farther down._

_"You need some help?" Nicholas asked, wanting to be a gentleman._

_"Sure. Thanks." Clara said, opening the trunk of her car._

_They continued to talk while Nicholas helped her load the groceries into her car. Clara definitely wasn't the first woman he'd talked to since Rose's death. He'd actually had more women in his life since then than he cared to admit, but there was something different about Clara._

"Have I been here before?" Soda asked, reading Rose's grave marker.

"Yeah. You were at her funeral. I can't believe it's been this long," Steve said, kneeling next to the marker.

"Me neither."

Steve traced his mom's name and birth date before pausing, his finger still on the stone. "I didn't come here for a long time, but I don't know, I kind of like to now."

"I didn't know that."

This made Soda wonder if Pony or Darry ever visited their parents' graves. Soda hadn't since right after their funeral, which had been about a year and a half ago now.

"I wish she was here," Steve said quietly, now tracing Rose's death date and the inscription on her marker that described her as a loving mother, wife, and friend.

"I do too." Soda laid a hand on Steve's shoulder. He understood Steve coming here, but he couldn't help but wonder if it was really good for him at this point. "Does it make you feel better about...well, about things if you come here?"

"I don't know. I just like to remember her." Steve shrugged. "Sometimes, I think of how I was so young that my memories of her will fade. I already don't remember as much as I wish I did."

Now, Soda really got it. Memories of Steve's mom weren't as vivid or numerous as he'd like, yet his recollections of Clara's abuse had become something he couldn't escape. Being out here next to his mom's grave must've made him feel closer to her somehow.

"Hi, Steve!" Evie greeted her boyfriend, who stood at her front door.

"Hi, sweetie. I've missed you," Steve said, leaning it to kiss her cheek. "Remember that picnic date we had when we were first together?"

"Of course." Evie smiled

"I was thinking we should grab a few snacks and go back to that spot and talk."

"We should." Evie hugged Steve tightly. "I missed you so much. I'm sorry I got distant," she apologized.

"It's okay." Steve held onto her. "I understand."

Evie lie on the blanket that covered the ground with her head on Steve's chest. They'd eaten the sandwiches and chips they'd brought and were now just enjoying each other's company.

"You been doing okay these last few days?" Evie asked.

Steve sighed. "Not really. I had a panic attack once," he said.

"I'm sorry, baby. Do you know why?"

"Yeah. Pretty much. It's all these memories and thoughts in my head. It gets so real sometimes that I'm reliving what Clara did to me when she..." Steve trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought.

"It's okay," Evie said, gently hugging him close.

"No. I really don't think it is." Steve stroked Evie's hair. "I'm not sure what would've happened if no one had been there when I've been like that."

"Who was there?" Evie propped herself up on her elbow.

"My dad the first time. Sodapop the next. Man, I hate even thinking about it. All the guys saw the panic attack."

"Good you weren't alone."

"Soda thinks I should talk to a shrink."

"It sounds a lot better if you say counselor," Evie pointed out. "And I think he's right. If something can help you, I'm all for it." She leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I'm thinking about it, but I don't know yet. I guess I'm hoping it will just stop on its own," Steve told Evie.

"Well, a counselor's job isn't just to fix something, it's to help you cope and understand it, so you'll feel better," Evie said gently. "I really want you to feel better, sweetheart. Do you remember when I was in that car accident?"

"Yeah, what about it?" Steve wondered, remembering the time another driver had hit Evie's car on a road near the high school when he ran a stop sign.

"It wasn't a really big deal, but it still scared me, you know. I was only sixteen. I talked to our school counselor about it. That helped a lot," Evie explained. "I mean, that's nothing like this, but I'm just saying it can help to have someone who knows exactly what to say and do."

"Yeah, I get it," Steve said, sitting up and taking a deep breath.

"You sure have a lot of people here for you, sweetie. I know that must help too. Hey, are you okay?"

Steve suddenly felt like he couldn't get enough air and remembered what Darry had told him. He needed to take slow, deep breaths. "Hard to breathe," he said. "Just need a minute."

"Okay." Evie rubbed Steve's back in slow, soothing circles.

Steve focused on breathing deeply and slowly, taking in the sight of the creek, the trees, and the grass. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he was sweating, but after a few minutes, he started to breathe more normally.

"Talking about this is overwhelming, isn't it?" Evie grasped Steve's hand and gave it a squeeze.

Steve squeezed back and nodded. He was indeed feeling very overwhelmed.

Nicholas was still thinking about the first time he'd met Clara when he had almost drained the bottle that he wished could wash the memories away. He thought of their first few dates and when she'd first met Steve. As painful as it was to consider his passive role in his own son's abuse, there was one more very sickening realization. Nicholas hadn't contemplated this before, but that was probably because he hadn't wanted to and just wasn't ready. Before his train of thought could make his stomach feel any sicker, Nicholas bolted up and into the bathroom.

The alcohol hadn't washed anything away, Nicholas thought, as he threw up over and over again. No, this time, it had drawn another agonizing truth to the surface of his mind.


	14. Chapter 14

_Nicholas turned over just as Rose lie back down. __"You okay,_ sweetie?"_ he asked._

_"I don't know. My neck feels really stiff, and my head hurts so much, I was throwing up," Rose said, then let her head sink into her pillow._

_Nicholas tucked the blanket around her, as she shivered, and drew her close to him. _ _"Maybe you just have some kind of bug."_

_"I hope so. It feels like the flu." Rose started to drift back to sleep._

_Nicholas didn't let go of Rose for hours. He held her, as they both slept, until she had to throw up again. He had no idea that he'd look back and wish it had been the flu._

* * *

"Dad, I thought you weren't going to do this anymore, " Steve said. He had just come home after being with Evie and had hoped to spend some time with his dad and talk.

"Yeah, well, after this time, I won't," Nicholas said.

"What do you mean 'this time?'"

"I mean it was just different. It didn't work," Nicholas offered, slightly slurring his words.

"Okay. I was with Evie today," Steve decided to say.

"Glad to hear that, Son. She actually called here earlier. Sounded like she missed you."

"I sure missed her," Steve said. "We were talking though, and I had another panic attack."

"Something scare you?" Nicholas asked, remembering what Steve had told him had happened at the Curtis' house.

"No, not like what happened before, at least. But I think I know why it happened," Steve hedged.

Nicholas rubbed his face, trying to sober up a bit more and focus on helping his son. "I'm listening." He leaned forward, his glassy eyes looking at Steve intently.

"I think it's because Evie and I were really close, just sort of cuddling, you know, nothing else..." Steve started, before trailing off.

"Okay, Son, you can tell me," Nicholas assured him.

"I think, with the memories of Clara and everything, when Evie touches me, it's just...it's overwhelming," Steve struggled to explain. "And it's not like I think she's anything like that! Evie would never hurt me or anyone else," he rushed to add.

Nicholas laid a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Of course not, Stevie. I know that's not what you mean."

"I mean, I know I pulled away from her before when she tried to kiss me, but this wasn't even that. We were just lying there by the creek really close to each other, and it was nice except..." Steve rambled, feeling tears of frustration. "And I love her, Dad. I really do."

"It's okay, Son." Nicholas reached out to hold Steve close to him.

"It makes me feel so bad. This isn't Evie's fault." Steve hugged Nicholas back.

"But it's not yours either," Nicholas reminded him.

He still felt nauseous remembering what he'd been thinking about earlier, but Nicholas was grateful that the wanderings of his mind had sobered him up enough to be there for Steve.

* * *

Steve stood at the counter at the DX and handed the man in front of him the Snickers bar and root beer he'd just purchased, along with ten cents in change. "Have nice day, sir," he said, as the customer walked away.

The door opened just as he got to it, and Pony stepped inside, holding it for him, as the man nodded his thanks.

"Hey, Steve," Pony greeted. "Is Soda here?"

"He just left, Pony," Steve replied, as Pony pulled a Pepsi from the refrigerator.

"I guess I'll catch him at home then," he said. "Hey, Steve?" Pony asked, noticing Steve looked like he'd gone pale.

He was staring at the cash register keyboard and muttering something.

"Steve?" Pony tried again, stepping closer and leaning across the counter.

Steve suddenly blinked at looked up at Pony.

"Where'd you go, man?" Pony asked.

Steve ran his hands down his face, trying to pull himself back into the present. "Nowhere. Just kind of tired," he mumbled.

Steve knew Soda hadn't told Pony about Clara or anything that was going on with him. He still liked protecting his little brother from certain kinds of evils in the world when he could. Besides, Soda also knew Steve didn't really want anyone else to know, and he wasn't particularly close to Pony anyway. Besides, it wasn't likely Pony would remember anything about Clara.

"Well, you look like you just saw a ghost, and you were talking to yourself," Pony added, as Steve rung up his drink for him.

Steve almost laughed at how close Pony was to the truth.

* * *

_Nicholas was drifting off the sleep when he felt Clara climb into the bed next to him. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer to her. _ _He slowly opened his eyes and turned over to kiss her on the lips._

_"You're so beautiful," Nicholas said, moving himself even closer to Clara._

_"I'm so glad I met you," Clara whispered, leaning back in for a long kiss, as she felt Nicholas caress her body under the covers._

* * *

Nicholas shivered at the memory, getting nauseous again. He hadn't even had any more to drink since the day before, but the mostly empty bottle of whiskey remained on the kitchen counter.

He'd been sleeping with Clara at the same time she was abusing Steve, and that epiphany made his skin crawl with anger, both at her and at himself. Nicholas had shared a bed with her, and Clara had been like a thief in the night, crawling into Steve's bed and claiming his childhood innocence. His own recollection of how he'd held and touched her made him feel like he'd also committed a hideous betrayal.

Steve was hurting as a result of the pain that still afflicted him, the suffering caused by Clara's careless and cruel actions. She'd obviously been such a selfish, callous person. Nicholas hated that Steve had these horrid memories of abuse echoing in his mind.

He was beginning to understand more fully why he'd tried to shut everything out. Not only had Nicholas honestly believed that would be better for Steve, but he hadn't wanted to face the other aspect off the dark reality. His conscious mind had not been ready to acknowledge it.

* * *

Pony sat on the porch swing, lighting a cigarette and taking a puff.

"Hey, Pone. Got one for me?" Soda asked, letting the front door slam.

Pony handed him a cigarette and his lighter, but couldn't help commenting. "You never smoke with me," he said, and Soda grinned.

"Yeah, well, I could use one once in a while." Soda lit the cigarette and took a long drag.

"I went by the DX today, and I think I just missed you. Steve sure acted funny," Pony said, blowing a cloud of smoke.

"Oh, yeah? How so?"

"He was staring off in space and kind of talking to himself. I'm not sure what he was saying," Pony explained what he'd seen.

Soda sighed heavily, bringing his cigarette to his lips once more.

"I called his name a couple of times, and he snapped out of it. It was like he went somewhere else for a minute." Pony ground his cigarette out.

Pony noticed Soda appeared to be deep in thought, and he put a hand on his shoulder. "You're awful quiet tonight."

"Yeah," Soda said simply, putting his own cigarette out.

"Soda? Was this today anything to do with that panic attack Steve had? Cause I know that had nothing to do with TwoBit," Pony shook his head. "Steve has never been that jumpy. Kind of reminded me of Johnny." He gave Soda's shoulder a squeeze.

"Yeah, it was, Pony. At least it sounds like it to me. And you're right. It wasn't about TwoBit." Soda sighed.

"You know what's going on with him, don't you?"

"I do. But I can't tell you." Soda met Pony's gaze.

"I know. I don't want you to either." Pony dismissed the idea. "I just wanted to make sure someone knew, and you're the best person to talk to that I know. It looks like Steve needs that." He grinned at Soda.

Soda slung an arm over Pony's shoulders. "You're a smart kid, Pony." He smiled.

* * *

_Nicholas came in from outside to see Rose still resting. He'd wanted to check on her since she'd looked so pale and unwell for the past couple of days. Her head constantly hurt, and she'd still complained of being nauseous and achy. It seemed like she had a terrible case of the flu. Nicholas didn't know what else it could be._

_He looked at Rose's closed eyes and immediately felt a sense of dread come over him. She looked too pale and too still. Nicholas grabbed her wrist, praying to feel a pulse. Her heart was beating, but just barely. It was slow and sporadic. He leaned closer and saw her chest faintly rising and falling with shallow breaths, as he quickly picked up the phone, dialing 911._

_"Hang on, my love," Nicholas pleaded,, tears escaping down his cheeks._

* * *

Nicholas was growing more and more frustrated. He didn't want to think about Clara or what she'd done to Steve any longer. He didn't want to ponder over the fact that he'd been physically intimate with a woman, who was sexually abusing his son at the time.

He also didn't want to taste alcohol ever again. Nicholas stared at the bottle that still held a little bit of the whiskey that had both helped numb him years ago and also allowed his mind to wash these startling realizations to the surface. He stood and picked it up, hearing the front door open and close. Before another moment could pass, Nicholas hurled the bottle at the wall.

"Dad, what the hell are you doing?" Steve asked, as the glass shattered and drops of whiskey decorated the wall.

"I just quit drinking," Nicholas declared, as Steve continued to stare at him in stunned silence.


	15. Chapter 15

"Hey, Sodapop? Can we talk for a minute?" Darry asked his little brother.

"Sure, Dar," Soda replied, as he used a knife to spread butter on a slice of toast.

"After what Steve told me the other day about what happened to him, I wondered if he might need some help. I know you already mentioned that to him."

"Yeah. He was already so upset when I said that, it didn't go over too great at the time. He did tell me later he'd think about it though," Soda said, between bites of toast.

"Well, that's good. I was just going to say one of my coworkers has a wife who's a counselor. I'll get her number today, and you can give it to Steve," Darry offered.

"Okay, Dar. Thanks. I'll give it to him tonight when he's here. That's a real good idea."

"You think he'll do it?" Darry wondered.

"Maybe not yet, but yeah, I do," Soda said, knowing Steve may take more time to decide he was ready. "It could just be me hoping so though."

"Try not to worry too much, little buddy."

"I just don't want him to give up, you know?" Soda saw Steve's car pull up outside and quickly finished his breakfast.

"He won't," Darry said.

"I hope you're right. I'll see you later, Dar." Soda waved, as he went out to Steve's car. He got in and greeted his best friend, noticing his weary appearance. "You okay, Stevie?"

"Yeah. Just had a rough night," Steve answered, shifting the car into reverse and pulling it out of the driveway.

"All right." Soda imagined he already knew what that meant. "You know you can tell me if you want."

"I just don't feel like talking about it anymore, Soda. I mean, you know enough already to figure it out. It's more of the same."

As Steve drove in the direction of the DX, Soda felt a sudden uneasiness at the disheartened tone of Steve's voice. Please don't give up, buddy, he thought.

* * *

_Nicholas stayed at Rose's side, clutching her hand tightly and praying for her to stay with him. _ _"Come on, sweetheart. I need you. Just hang on. An ambulance is coming," he pleaded._

_Nicholas watched for the rise and fall of her chest and saw he take what turned out to be her last breath. _ _"No! No!Breathe, honey, breathe!" he was frantically crying when paramedics rushed in and pushed him aside._

_Nicholas collapsed to the floor, sobbing and feeling his heart shatter, as despair overcame him. They didn't need to come tell him her heart had stopped. He already knew Rose was gone from this earth._

* * *

"Hey, sweetie," Evie greeted, as she pulled the car up to the DX station and saw Steve.

"Hey, baby, what brings you by?" Steve asked.

"Just wanted to get some gas in my mom's car and say hi."

"Okay." Steve began to pumping the gas.

"How are you feeling today?" Evie wondered.

"Been better. Had a rough night." Steve shrugged and waited for the car to fill up, then placed the pump nozzle back in its place. "There you go. All ready to go."

Evie got out of the car and kissed Steve on the cheek. He squeezed his eyes shut, but he didn't flinch.

She walked away from him and went inside the station, and Steve saw her talking to Soda. He took in a deep breath and sat down, leaning against the gas pump. He truly felt sick and had since waking up this morning.

Steve had talked to his dad for a while after getting home and seeing him smash the bottle of whiskey into the wall. Whatever exactly had led to his dad's determination not to drink anymore, he was grateful for it.

After their talk though, the rest of Steve's night had consisted of nightmares and subsequent panic. He'd lost count of how many times he woke up shaking and sweating. He had struggled so much to catch his breath at one point that he'd rushed into his dad's room.

Nicholas had instantly awakened and pulled Steve close, reminding him he was okay and safe. Another person's presence had been sufficient to soothe Steve, and he'd eventually fallen back asleep next to his dad.

"You okay, Steve?" Evie asked, passing him on her way back to the car and gently touching his arm.

"Just not feeling too good," Steve said. "I think I might see about going home early."

"You should. You look like you could use some more rest. I love you." Evie got in the car and turned the key.

"I love you too," Steve said back to her, watching her drive away.

Not seeing anymore customers at the moment, Steve headed inside to talk to Soda.

* * *

_"Son, I don't know how to tell you this, but your mom died today," Nicholas managed to choke out, as he kneeled down next to Steve._

_Steve stared at him for a moment, not believing what he'd just heard. _ _"What are you talking about? What happened? I knew she was sick, but no!" he cried, getting louder as he went on, tears began to fall._

_Nicholas pulled Steve into his arms and cried more of his own tears, as his son wept for the mother he'd loved so very much._

_Steve was right that Rose had been sick, but what Nicholas didn't tell him yet was it hadn't been the flu at all. When he had described Rose's symptoms, he had been told it sounded like she may have had meningitis. Nicholas hadn't even realized there was such an illness, but the terrible headache Rose had suffered, the vomiting and fever, as well as the stiff neck she'd complained about were all signs of it. If it had been meningitis, her only chance would've been immediate antibiotic treatment, but even then, she may not have survived the infection._

_"She can't be gone, Dad. I need her," Steve cried, clinging to Nicholas._

_"I know, Son. She loved you so much." Nicholas gently kissing his son's head. "And I love you too."_

* * *

Steve didn't bother changing out of his work clothes, before he collapsed onto the couch. He turned on the TV, not even really wanting to sleep. He just wanted to lie her and rest. Their boss had come by the DX station and told Steve to please go home a couple of hours early. He didn't want exhausted guys on the job. Besides, Soda and a couple of other employees were there. Steve was grateful because he'd always been a hard worker, who did everything his boss asked, plus more. He was always on time and hardly ever absent. He supposed that was why the boss didn't have a problem letting him have a bit of time off.

Steve listened to the show on TV drone on and on, and even though he was afraid to attempt sleep, his eyes drifted shut.

* * *

_Nicholas and Steve stood side by side next to Rose's coffin, arms around each other. Friends and family came up to them a few at a time to express condolences and say good bye to Rose._

_"Steve?" came a quiet voice and a tap on Steve's shoulder._

_Steve turned and saw Soda behind him. _ _"Hey," he said, tears still in his eyes._

_Soda stared at Rose, then looked back at Steve, not knowing what he was supposed to do or say. He then shot a pleading look to his mom and dad, who came to stand next to him._

_"Just be here. That's all they need," Mr. Curtis whispered to Soda, who nodded._

_Mr. and Mrs. Curtis moved back to stand behind him, as Soda went forward to be beside Steve._

_"I'm sorry. I just don't know what to do. I've never done this before," Soda said, tears welling in his eyes, as he looked at Rose again._

_"I haven't either." Steve was also turned his gaze to his mom._

_He saw Nicholas turn around to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Curtis. _ _"I'll be right here, Son," he told Steve reassuringly._

_Steve just nodded and stayed standing next to Soda._

_"What do we do?" Soda asked._

_"We just stay right here with her," Steve said, with a confidence he didn't know he possessed._

_He moved close to Rose, taking her hand in his. His dad had told him he could touch her if he wanted. Rose's hand felt cold, but he held it anyway, as tears poured down his cheeks._

_Soda didn't touch Rose, but he stood at Steve's side, clutching his shoulder. His dad had said he just needed to be here, so that's what Soda would do. He knew Steve would've done the same for him. He felt a tear fall down his cheek, as he glanced at Rose once more. Soda had loved Steve's mom too._

* * *

Nicholas stepped into his house and wasn't surprised to see the TV on and Steve asleep on the couch. His son had had a very rough night and needed the rest.

He'd been there for Steve without even a moment's hesitation. He would have anyway, but Nicholas felt as if we was doing now what he should've done when Steve had nightmares in the more immediate aftermath of Clara's abuse.

Steve had never rushed into his bedroom in a panic in the middle of the night back then, but Nicholas had known about the dreams. He'd watched his son sleep and see him tossing and turning, and Steve had told him about them. He hated that he'd dismissed it so easily when Steve had said he was having nightmares. They weren't just bad dreams that would go away in time. Nicholas had been horribly wrong about that.

He would do everything he could now to make up for how he'd tried to sweep Steve's pain under the rug, along with his own, back then. His son had needed to tell him about these dreams then, just like he had done last night.

When Steve had calmed down enough to talk, he'd told Nicholas that the dreams either consisted of waking up to see a dead Clara next to him or struggling against her abuse. Just before Steve had fallen back asleep next to his dad, he'd said that Nicholas himself had been in one of these nightmares. Steve said he'd cried for his dad to get him away from Clara, and Nicholas hadn't been able to hear him. At these words, Nicholas had pulled his son as close to him as he could and again reminded him he was okay and safe. Steve hadn't said anything else, and Nicholas hoped he'd sleep more peacefully.

* * *

_"I don't think Steve likes me being here," Clara lamented._

_"Aw, he likes you just fine. He's not used to you yet," Nicholas said, as he hunted for his car keys._

_"Know what I should do?" Clara wondered._

_"Just give him some time?" Nicholas finally found his keys tossed in a hanging jacket's pocket._

_"I think I'll make him something special for dinner and dessert tonight. What would he like?"_

_"How about you order a pepperoni pizza and buy some chocolate ice cream?" Nicholas laughed, knowing his son would like that._

_"Really? That's all?" Clara questioned._

_"He's just a little boy, Clara. He doesn't care about a fancy meal," Nicholas said, we he went to his car._

_That night, Clara did what Nicholas suggested. Steve ate the pizza and ice cream and told her thank you._

_When he went to bed though, he felt his stomach begin to ache, then he cried himself to sleep. Steve couldn't understand how Clara could both hurt him and try to be nice. It was confusing, and he was beginning to believe she'd never go away._


	16. Chapter 16

"Hey, Steve, come here a minute," Soda called from his and Pony's room.

Steve got up from his place next to TwoBit and went over to Soda. "What's up?" he asked, as his friend closed the door.

Soda pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to Steve. "I'm just giving this to you. Not saying you have to call right now, but hold onto it," he said.

Steve glanced at the slip of paper, realizing it was a phone number. "Whose number is this?"

"Darry has a coworker, whose wife is a counselor."

Steve sighed, shaking his head. "Soda, I-"

"Just take it. You told me you'd think about it."

"I just don't know if...I mean, Soda, it's all getting worse," Steve struggled to say, as he shoved the number in his pocket.

"What is?"

"The memories, the nightmares, and all of it! I keep panicking and..." Steve trailed off and turned away from Soda, who put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Easy, buddy. I wasn't trying to upset you."

"You didn't," Steve told him, turning back around. "I'm just so tired of all this, man."

"I know," Soda confirmed, wishing he could help more.

"I can't keep living like this. I'm a mess, Sodapop. I thought I should feel better by now. I mean, I've talked a lot to you, to Evie, and now to my dad too."

"I'm sorry, man. I feel like I've run out of things to say."

"You've done a lot, buddy. More than I'd ever want you to be able to understand. It's just like there's no way out of what's in my head."

There was a knock on the door.

"Yeah?" Soda called.

The door opened, and TwoBit peeked inside. "Food's ready, guys. Everything all right?" he asked.

"Yeah, TwoBit. We're good," Soda replied.

TwoBit eased the door shut, disappearing from view.

"Just hang on to that number. When you're ready, call them. I told you before you'd get through this, and I still believe that." Soda repeated what he'd said a few days before.

* * *

"Hey, Evie!" Soda greeted, seeing her walk up to the counter at the DX.

"Hi, Soda. Is Steve working today?" Evie asked.

"He was supposed to, but I'm still here because the boss called to let me know Steve called in sick. I'm waiting for someone else to show up to cover for him this afternoon."

"That's weird," Evie said, confused.

"What?" Soda wondered.

"I just went by his house. No one was there. I'll guess I'll call him tonight though. I'll see you later. Tell Steve to call me if you see him, okay?"

"Sure, Evie. I will," Soda agreed, waving as Evie went outside and back to her car.

Soda decided he'd go by Steve's house when he got off work. It hadn't surprised him at all that his friend called in sick. That didn't happen often, but Soda was sure he needed a break and some rest, though it did seem strange that he wouldn't be at home.

* * *

Soda knocked on the door of the Randles' house. It had taken a while, but the guy covering for Steve had finally arrived.

"Oh, hi, Sodapop!" Nicholas greeted.

"Hey, Nicholas. Is Steve here?" Soda asked, even though he didn't see Steve's car.

"No, I haven't seen him since this morning. I thought he was working this afternoon," Nicholas said, motioning for Soda to come inside.

"He was, but he called in sick." Soda was trying to decide if he should worry.

"Could he be with Evie?" Nicholas asked.

"She came by here and the DX earlier, looking for him too."

"Well, he must be somewhere. Seems odd that he'd call out of work and not stay home. He's had a couple of rough nights." Nicholas sighed.

"Nicholas, we have to find him." Soda suddenly turned very serious.

"We will. He'll come home soon. And you should ask TwoBit too and go check your place. Maybe-"

"No! I mean, the things he's been saying lately, Steve hasn't sounded good."

"What do you mean, Sodapop?" Nicholas asked, feeling a knot of fear.

* * *

_"I just want it to stop."_

_"I can't take much more."_

Soda recalled Steve's words the night of the thunderstorm and how he'd sounded so pained and nearly hopeless, his voice coated with the sadness and memories that he couldn't seem to shake.

Soda had left to go to his house, and Nicholas was going by the Mathews' house.

_"I can't keep living like this."_

_"There's no way out of what's in my head."_

Soda tried to focus on where he was going, but Steve's words from the night before kept echoing in his head. It only made him run faster. He hoped he was wrong and that his fears would be unfounded.

"Darry! Have you seen Steve today?" Soda asked, bursting through the door.

"No, I haven't. Why?" Darry turned to look at his brother. "Soda, you need to sit down! Did you run here or something?"

"Darry, we have to find Steve. He didn't go to work, and his dad hasn't seen him since this morning and-"

"Slow down, little buddy. I'm sure he's fine," Darry reasoned.

"No! Listen! I'm worried about him!" Soda yelled, growing exasperated.

"I know that, Soda, but-"

"You don't understand. You haven't heard him say what I have. I'm afraid-"

"Hey, what's all the yelling about?" a voice asked.

Soda let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and turned around to see Steve watching them.

Before Steve could say another word, Soda had rushed forward and engulfed him in a hug. Steve was confused, but he hugged him back anyway.

"Soda, I can barely breathe, man. You're squeezing too hard. What's going on?" Steve wondered, after a moment.

Soda slowly let go. Steve was okay. His fears had been for nothing. He allowed a flash of anger to start to snap in him. "What have you been doing all day?" he asked, trying not to lash out at his best friend.

"Just thinking a lot, and I-" Steve tried to answer.

"Just thinking? No one has seen you in hours. And after the things you've said lately? You can't talk like that and then disappear!" Soda yelled.

Steve took a step back, staring at his friend.

"Soda, take it easy," Darry said, trying to calm his brother.

"I didn't disappear, and what things?" Steve said, puzzled both by Soda's relief and his anger.

"You were saying you couldn't take much more, that you just wanted the pain to stop," Soda said quietly. "And just last night, you said you couldn't keep living like this and that there was no way out." Soda saw Darry's expression of shocked realization, then looked back at Steve, his tone softening. "What does that sound like to you?"

Steve's face drained of color, and he finally understood what Soda was trying to say. "Oh, Sodapop, listen. I wasn't going to do anything like...that." He stumbled over the thought. "I don't want to die, man. It's not like that at all."

"But you have to get help before it is like that because I couldn't stand it if you-" Soda cried, before he stopped and turned away from both Steve and Darry, fighting tears.

"Soda, no, that's not what I was thinking at all today. I just wanted to be alone. I promise," Steve said, as he moved to stand beside Soda. "I do feel bad, and I'm exhausted, but that was never what I was going to do. Do you hear me?"

Soda nodded. "Steve?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

"We need to go find your dad."

* * *

Nicholas had gone by the Mathews' house and found no one there, except TwoBit's little sister. She told him she hadn't seen Steve, but she'd ask TwoBit when he came home.

Nicholas was getting sickeningly worried. He took a drive around town, keeping his eyes peeled for Steve's car. Soda had told him why they needed to find Steve, and he agreed.

His son hadn't said the same things to him that he had said to Soda, but he was thinking of when Steve had said he still felt guilty about both the abuse and Clara's death. That kind of shame must be eating him up inside, Nicholas thought.

He also remembered his son's statement about how it was hard to know someone felt bad enough to want to die. Did he say that because he felt that bad too?

Nicholas drove past the park and the Dingo, before deciding to go back to the Curtis' house. Maybe Soda would still be there. Turning the corner, he saw Steve's car parked next to Darry's truck. He heaved a sigh of relief, as he parked his own car and got out to go inside.

Before Nicholas could even walk up the porch steps, both Soda and Steve came through the front door.

"Hey, Dad. We were just about to-" Steve was interrupted by Nicholas bounding up the steps and pulling him into a fierce embrace.

"You're going to that counselor you told me about if I have to drag you there myself," Nicholas said, holding his son tightly.

Steve relaxed and hugged him back.

"Nicholas, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions and scared you too," Soda apologized.

"No, Sodapop, don't be sorry. You were worried and rightly so. You only said what you believed I needed to know," Nicholas said, as he pulled away to look at Steve, keeping his hands on his shoulders.

"Dad, I was going to tell you that's what I've been thinking about today. I'm going to go to the counselor," Steve said, glancing at Soda, then back at his dad. "I think I need to, and I promise nothing happened today. I just wanted to be alone."

"All right, Son. I'm just so glad you're okay. You have no idea," Nicholas said, sighing and letting go of Steve.

Steve and Nicholas sat at the dinner table with all three Curtis brothers. Since they'd been there already, Darry had invited them to stay and eat.

Steve looked over at Soda and his dad, eating the chicken Darry had baked, along with some corn and mashed potatoes. He had never thought that either of them would think he was suicidal, but he certainly couldn't blame them either. He had been stunned when he realized what Soda was saying, but it did make sense. Steve didn't call out of work often, and he was, as everyone knew, having a very tough time wrestling with the past. He had been honest with them about today. However, Steve had to admit, that when Soda spelled it all out for him, it did sound exactly like what his friend was fearing.

* * *

Steve was brushing his teeth later that night when his dad appeared in the bathroom doorway.

"So what did you do today, Son?" Nicholas wondered.

Steve paused to spit toothpaste into the sink and rinse his mouth out before speaking. "Thought a lot about things. That's why I decided to try going to see this counselor," he said, rinsing off his toothbrush.

"But where did you go? You hardly ever miss work."

Steve set his toothbrush in its holder, then turned to look at his dad. "Just went back to bed for a while first after you went to work. I needed to sleep, so I called my boss. Then, when I woke up later, I went...somewhere."

"Somewhere? Steve, if you don't want to tell me, just say so," Nicholas offered.

Steve walked out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, with his dad trailing behind. "I really don't want to, Dad. It's nowhere bad, okay? Can I just go to bed now?"

"Of course, Son. Good night," Nicholas said, beginning to head to his own room, then turning back to Steve again. "Oh, and Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm also still here if you need me tonight. We'll call tomorrow to see about getting you an appointment with that counselor. I'm glad you decided to go." Nicholas grinned, before disappearing down the hallway.

Steve pulled back the covers of his bed, wondering why he hadn't just told his dad.

Perhaps he was afraid because he didn't know what Nicholas might say. Steve was already feeling haunted by the past, and he couldn't be sure Nicholas wouldn't try to tell him the cemetery may not be the best place to spend time lost in thought.


	17. Chapter 17

"Steve, can I ask you something?" Evie wondered.

The couple sat in Steve's car holding hands. They'd come to the drive-in to see a movie, but it hadn't started yet.

"Sure, Evie," Steve said.

"Does it...does it ever scare you when I touch you?" Evie looked down at their intertwined hands.

Steve had hoped Evie wouldn't be able to see it, but she was a smart and perceptive girl, and she knew him well. "It's not you, Evie. But, yeah, sometimes it reminds me of..." Steve swallowed. "It makes me think of Clara and when she touched me. I'm sorry. I can't help it," he admitted, voice trembling.

"No, baby, don't be sorry," Evie said softly, letting go of Steve's hand and meeting his eyes. "I just wanted to know. I never want to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable."

"I didn't know how to tell you about that. That's just another thing I think I need help with because I don't want to hurt you." Steve looked at Evie and touched her cheek.

"You call that counselor yet?" Evie took Steve's hand again.

"Yeah. My dad had to talk to them because I'm technically not eighteen yet, but I have an appointment tomorrow afternoon. I'm kind of nervous."

"You'll do fine, sweetie. You want to stay and watch the movie or go somewhere else and talk?"

"Let's watch the movie."

"All right. I think it's about to start, but I'm going to run the bathroom first. I'll be right back." Evie said slid out of the car.

While Evie was gone, Steve thought about the counseling appointment and why he'd decided to go. If there was a chance it would help, he had to try, and he was beginning to get scared of something besides the memories of Clara and the panic they caused him. He had so much grief, anger, and shame inside. He was tired of the veil of sadness that constantly cast its shadow over him. Steve was worn out from reliving the past, and he was also weary from battling the darkness in his thoughts that only got worse, as the memories and emotions continued to echo in his mind, tainting the present. He was beginning to fear the way he was thinking and feeling.

Steve was staring at the screen that was playing a preview when Evie returned. She started to rummage in her purse.

"What are you looking for?" Steve asked.

"Just some change. I'm getting thirsty," Evie answered, not looking up.

"Evie, I don't ever make you pay for anything when we go out. I got it, sweetheart." Steve grabbed for his wallet.

Evie smiled at him, zipping her purse back up. "Thank you for being such a gentleman, Steve."

"Thank you for having me," Steve said, as he opened his door to go get Evie a drink. He turned back to look at her. "Seriously, Evie, thank you for still being my girl."

Steve closed the car door and walked toward the concession area, as Evie turned back to the movie screen.

She hoped the counselor could get Steve to talk about everything that he never had for all these years. Evie believed he needed to start at the beginning and talk through details he wanted to forget. Just saying Clara had abused him wasn't enough. From what Evie could tell, Steve had some vivid memories and strong emotions that had been with him for a long time.

She knew it'd be difficult for him, but Steve was going to have to confront all of it head on if he wanted the memories to stop attacking him like they had been. In order to stop reliving what Clara had done, he had to face it like he hadn't been able to back then.

* * *

"I'm nervous, Dad," Steve said, glancing out the car window at the small brick office building.

"I know, Son, but it'll be fine. You'll see," Nicholas encouraged.

Father and son got out of the car and headed toward the building, where Steve was going to meet the counselor he'd decided to see.

Walking in, Steve and Nicholas were greeted by a receptionist and introduced themselves.

"Just fill these out for us, and Mrs. Avery will be with you shortly," the receptionist said, as she handed Nicholas some forms.

"Looks better inside here than it did on the outside," Nicholas observed, as he and Steve sat down in nearby chairs.

Steve glanced around the room, agreeing with his dad. Outside, the building seemed plain and uninviting. Inside, there were brightly painted blue walls, decorated with framed affirmations.

In the corner, there was a bookshelf, filled with magazine and what Steve guessed from the titles, were books about different kinds of psychological issues. He realized he could be a person in one of those books and looked away, focusing instead on the fish aquarium that was closer to him.

Nicholas had handed the forms back to the receptionist and was watching Steve. "You okay?" he asked.

"I don't know."

A door a few feet away opened, and a woman in black pants and a dressy green top appeared. "Hi, you must be Steve," she said. "I'm Mrs. Avery, but you can just call me Laura, if you'd like."

Steve's heart sped up, as she shook the hand she held out to him.

"I'm Nicholas, Steve's dad." Nicholas also shook Laura's hand.

"It's nice to meet both of you. Steve, come with me, and we'll talk more about you," Laura said, looking at Steve with her bright blue eyes.

She motioned for him to follow her into a hallway, and Steve glanced at his dad, who nodded.

"You'll be fine, Steve," Nicholas assured his son.

Steve took a deep breath and followed Laura into another room.

"Have a seat there," Laura said, pointing to a chair that stood next to a sunlit window.

Laura took her own seat across from Steve. "So, Steve, tell me about yourself," she said.

Steve looked out the window, then at the floor, before dropping his head into his hands.

"Hey, no pressure. We can talk about whatever you want," Laura offered.

"Sorry, just nervous," Steve said, unable to look at her.

"You're good. I understand. Take your time." Laura smiled.

"This is hard."

"What is?"

"Being here. I mean, what do I say?" Steve wondered, finally meeting Laura's eyes.

"Whatever you want. Tell me about yourself and what's going on in your life," Laura encouraged.

Steve bit his lip and looked down again. "Well, I don't like thinking about myself too much lately," he said.

"Why is that?" Laura tilted her head, watching him.

"Cause I'm having a real rough time," Steve admitted.

"Okay."

"I just feel sad a lot of the time and angry."

"Do you know why?" Laura asked.

"There's some...stuff in my past, and I've been thinking about it. I didn't really deal with it when it happened," Steve said, running his hands through his hair.

"What happened?"

"I can't do this," Steve said, standing up.

"Steve, hang on," Laura said, as Steve opened the door, walking back to where he knew his dad was.

"That was fast, Son," Nicholas said, looking up from a magazine.

"That's cause I can't do it, Dad," Steve said, heading for the door that led out of the building.

"Huh? Steve, wait!" Nicholas said, tossing the magazine down, then looking up to see Laura. "I'm sorry," he apologized.

"It's okay," she said, shaking her head. "Bring him back here when he's ready. Sometimes, things take time." Laura gave Nicholas a smile.

"Yeah, that's something we're all too familiar with. I have to go talk to him." Nicholas got to his feet and followed Steve.

"I'm not going back in there, Dad!" Steve yelled, seeing Nicholas come outside.

"Son, it was your choice to come here, remember?" Nicholas reminded him.

Steve leaned against the back of the car, and Nicholas came to stand beside him.

"Now, it's my choice to go," Steve said, crossing his arms.

"She seemed really nice, Steve," Nicholas said.

"I don't care if she's Mother Teresa. I can't do this."

"Come on, Son. You do need to talk to someone. Why did you change your mind?"

"I don't know. I just don't want anything picking my brain. It's not like I don't know I'm fucked up." Steve looked down at the ground.

"But you're not."

"You know what, Dad? At least it's my choice not to talk about it this time!" Steve snapped, stepping away from the car.

Nicholas closed his eyes and hung his head. "You're right, but you do still need to talk."

"I just need to be alone for a while. I'll see you at home." Steve began going toward the sidewalk, away from Nicholas.

* * *

Nicholas had thought he wouldn't want to do this again, but he'd found himself in the parking lot of a liquor store. He had just gone inside and purchased a bottle of tequila, and he sat in his car, staring at it.

Giving up on trying to think anymore, Nicholas tossed the bottle into the passenger seat. He started the car and headed in the direction of his house.

* * *

"Steve?" Soda called, easing open the door to the Randles' house.

"He's not here," Nicholas said from where he stood, leaning against the kitchen counter.

Soda stepped inside, looking around. He spotted the bottle of tequila that was on the counter. "Everything okay, Nicholas?" he asked.

"I don't know, Sodapop. I thought it would be, but I don't know anymore." Nicholas shook his head.

"What happened?"

"Steve met the counselor. Her name's Mrs. Avery. She seemed nice enough. Even told him he could call her Laura. He was back with her for just a few minutes. Then, he just walked out." Nicholas looked at the bottle of tequila, then back at Soda.

"Oh." Soda sighed. "Know where he went?"

"He said he wanted to be alone" Nicholas paused, staring at the tile floor. "after he reminded me it's his choice not to talk now."

"I think I know where he probably is. I'll go talk to him," Soda said, opening the door to go. "And Nicholas?" He turned back to look at Steve's dad.

"Yeah?"

"Please don't drink that. Steve needs you."


	18. Chapter 18

Soda stood near Rose's grave marker, seeing Steve sitting on the edge of the fountain that was just several feet away. "I knew he'd be here," he said to the marker, eyes tracing over Rose's name, as he walked forward.

Steve looked up and saw Soda in front of him. "How did you find me?" he asked.

"It wasn't hard, man. Your dad told me you wanted to be alone. You brought me here that day, remember?"

"Yeah." Steve sighed.

"So what happened today?" Soda sat down next to Steve, glancing at his reflection in the water.

"I can't go back to that counselor." Steve looked away from Soda.

"Why? Wasn't she nice?"

"Nice enough, I guess. It wasn't that. I just felt like I was on display or something." Steve shrugged and shook his head.

"You have to give it a chance, buddy."

"I can't. I don't know what I need, but this can't be it. She was asking questions about me and how I feel and what happened."

"Sounds like she was doing her job, Stevie. Did you tell her anything?"

"Not really. I mean, I almost did, but I just couldn't."

"Want to know what I think?"

"Not really, but I know you'll tell me anyway."

"I think you're scared." Soda put a hand on Steve's arm.

"No, you're wrong. I just don't want to be seen this way. I mean, I get up every morning and look in the mirror and I see Clara and all this awful stuff I can't forget." Steve felt Soda squeeze his arm.

"That does sound like you're scared then. Talking to that counselor will make it all real and take it totally off whatever shelf you shoved it on in the back of your mind."

"As if it's not real enough when I feel like I'm reliving it all the time? I can't do it, man. I can't let that lady look at me, like I'm crazy. She'll see all this guilt and pain that she'll want to fix. No one can fix that." Steve bowed his head.

"She'll want to help, and that's a good thing."

"What does Evie see when she looks at me now, Soda? What does anyone see?" Steve turned away, his back to Soda.

"Steve, come on, look at me." Soda sighed, looking toward the sun, then back at Steve. He glanced at his own reflection in the water fountain, then laid a hand on Steve's back. "Tell me what you see when you look there," he said.

"What are you talking about?"

"The water. Look at your reflection. Tell me what you see."

Steve turned his head and saw his reflection rippling in the sunlight. "Just me. It's just me," he said, shaking his head.

"Want to know what I see?"

"Whatever, man."

Steve bowed his head once more, as Soda squeezed his shoulder.

"I see my best friend, the same one I've had since I was a little kid, and that I love just like my own brothers," Soda said.

"Please don't, Soda," Steve said, his voice cracking.

"I see the son your dad loves. All he really has in the world."

Steve closed his eyes, holding back tears.

"I see the guy Evie loves," Soda said.

"Please stop!" Steve cried, glancing back to look at Soda.

"Not til I know you hear me."

Steve looked away again and stared at his reflection. "I see a victim."

"That right there is why you have to go back and talk to that lady."

"No!" Steve shook his head.

"What if this were the other way around?"

"Huh?"

"What if it had been me who was abused? What would you say?"

"Soda, you weren't though."

"I know. But if I had been, would anything about it be my fault?"

"No, of course not." Steve turned slightly to look at his friend.

"Would you think I was crazy for having a hard time about it?"

"No, but you...it's not the same." Steve lay his head in his arms, letting the tears he'd been fighting flow.

Soda got up and went to sit in front of Steve. "But isn't it? If something bad like that happened to me, I'd still be Sodapop, right?"

"Yeah, you would." Steve lifted his head up, swallowing hard.

"You're no different, buddy." Soda met Steve's eyes.

"But I feel different."

"I know, and that's all right. That's why you have to talk about everything and work through it." Soda put an arm around Steve's shoulders.

"I don't know if talking will help." Steve let his head rest on Soda's shoulder for a few moments, as he took a shaky breath.

"Only one way to find out," Soda said, and Steve pulled away. "You okay?"

"I don't know," Steve said, looking at his reflection again, as he wiped his eyes. "Man, it's amazing."

"What is?"

"I remember when we were kids, and you didn't even know what was going on, but you were still there for me everyday then too."

"Seems to be in my job description." Soda grinned at him.

"I need to talk to my dad." Steve sighed.

"He didn't look too good when I saw him."

"I really shouldn't have said what I did to him. I guess I just wanted to hurt him."

"He'll be all right. He's a tough guy, and he understands."

Nicholas sat in his bedroom and opened the bottle of tequila, staring at the alcohol inside. Does Steve really need me? he wondered. He picked up the bottle and took a small sip.

If it weren't for me, none of this would've happened to Steve anyway, Nicholas thought. There would've been no Clara in his life. There would've been no abuse. He took a larger swallow, feeling the drink rush down his throat.

Nicholas took one more swallow before he remembered something else. He had told Steve he needed to talk, yet here he stood attempting to drown himself in a bottle. He couldn't tell Steve not to run and hide, if that's what he was choosing to do. No, I already did that once before, and look where it landed us, he thought.

Nicholas set the bottle back on the counter and replaced the top. He took one last look, before turning away and going to his bedroom. He was sitting on his bed, leaning against the headboard with his eyes closed when he heard Steve's voice.

"Dad!"

"In here, Son," Nicholas called to him.

Steve came to the doorway and took a deep breath, before stepping forward and standing directly in front of his dad. "I'm sorry about what I said," he apologized.

"But you've got a point," Nicholas said, as Steve sat down beside him.

"Maybe, but still," Steve insisted, laying a hand on Nicholas' shoulder.

Nicholas reached over to grip Steve's hand with his own. "I love you, Son."

Steve squeezed the hand that held his. "I love you too, Dad."

Steve's eyes shot open, bleary, but still widened from the adrenaline of a nightmare. He shook his head, trying to expel the images and sensations from his brain. He looked toward the bedroom window his dad had so recently replaced and saw only the beginning of daylight shining through the partially open slits of the blind.

Steve buried his face in the bed covers, then tossed them away, as he stood up. He shuffled to the hallway and stopped at Nicholas' door. He almost opened it, before changing his mind. No, I'll deal with it alone this time, he thought. They're my memories, after all.

Steve stopped in front of the kitchen counter, rubbing his eyes and face, then covering his ears. He could see Clara behind his closed eyes, could feel her wandering hands. He could hear he sickeningly sweet, yet twisted, voice.

Steve looked up and fixed his eyes on the bottle of tequila that still had a place on the counter. No, I can't do that, he thought, as he dropped to the floor, head in his hands. Then, he felt Clara's kiss on his temple, the deceptive affection adding another layer of confusion. He reached up, gripping the handle of a nearby cabinet. He tried to focus on the feel of it, then he heard that voice again, telling him to be quiet and to be still. He heard that voice saying she'd never hurt him, as he felt those cold hands he couldn't push away. Steve's own thoughts as a little boy rushed back to him.

I am a good kid. Just like you said. But then, why are you here doing this? Why is this happening?

"Please stop. Please make it stop!" he cried, wrapping his arms around himself.

Go away. Go back to my dad. You don't belong in here. I liked you. Why would you hurt me? I thought I was supposed to be like the son you miss so much.

"Please go away," Steve pleaded, getting up on his knees and eyeing the bottle of alcohol he knew would wash away these memories.

Did I do something wrong? Is there something wrong with me?

Steve reached up and grabbed the bottle and opened it.

Please help me, Dad. Get her out of here. I miss Mom. She's not like her. Not at all. She's hurting me. Don't you see it?

Steve turned the bottle up and took a swallow of tequila.

I wanted you to get out of my room. I didn't want you to die. Why did you do that?

He felt a jolt to his senses, as he kept drinking. There had to be some relief in the numbness he knew would claim him. He paused to take a breath and closed his eyes, gripping the bottle, his knuckles turning white. He managed to stand and stumbled outside, where he dropped onto the porch swing.

Steve took a few more swallows of the tequila, before looking at the bottle, then setting it down on the ground. He gripped the arm of the swing and leaned his head back. He could still hear, see, and feel it all, but he didn't care anymore.

Steve closed his eyes, wondering how sick he would be later. He knew there would be a price to pay for searching for peace in a bottle, but he didn't care where the relief came from anymore. If the vivid memories of Clara's voice and touch could lose their power at the poisonous mercy of tequila, he'd use it to wash them away. If he could find a way to silence the thoughts he'd had as a little boy that had transformed into the shame he now carried, Steve had to smother them into oblivion.


	19. Chapter 19

Nicholas jolted awake at the sound of his alarm clock. He sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes. As he fully woke up, he realized he hadn't seen Steve all through the night. Maybe he had a better night, Nicholas thought. His son sure needed it.

He got up and ambled down the hallway, seeing Steve wasn't in his room. He must be up already, Nicholas thought, wandering into the kitchen. He glanced out the window near the dining table and saw Steve on the porch swing.

Nicholas raised his eyebrows, as he opened the door and saw the bottle of tequila he'd bought on the ground near his sleeping son. It was close to half empty, and Nicholas picked it up and poured the remaining drink over the porch railing, watching as it soaked into the grass.

"Steve, wake up, Son," Nicholas said, shaking Steve's shoulder.

"Hmm?" Steve mumbled, as he opened his eyes and touched his aching head.

"What happened?" Nicholas asked, taking a seat next to his son.

"I don't know, Dad. Just let me go back to sleep. I don't feel so good."

"Don't give me that."

"Fine. I drank to make it stop," Steve said, as he looked away.

"To make what stop?"

"What do you think?" Steve snapped. "This nightmare. The memories, my own damn thoughts and emotions. I couldn't take reliving it anymore." He sighed and glanced at Nicholas, then stared down at his feet.

"I'm not going to let you do this, Steve. You're not going to try to drink everything away."

"You did it."

"And look how that turned out!" Nicholas raised his voice and grabbed both of Steve's shoulders, staring into his eyes. "It didn't help you, and it came back to bite me too. What I buried in drinking didn't go away."

"I didn't plan it, Dad. And it's not something I want to do again. It was just really bad. There's no way you can understand." Steve pulled away and got to his feet.

"I understand better than you might think, Son. I thought I'd just drink once or twice too. It's not that easy."

"But you don't understand how it feels to be me right now. I just needed some peace. That ain't too much to ask, is it?" Steve laid a hand on his queasy stomach. "Man, I feel sick."

"I bet." Nicholas also stood to his feet. "And, no, I guess I can't understand how it feels to be you right now, but you're still not going to do this."

Steve rolled his eyes and leaned on the porch railing. "Whatever. Can we do this later?"

"I mean it, Son." Nicholas sighed. "Let go inside, and I'll get you some aspirin and water. I need to get dressed and get to the store. You supposed to work today?"

"Yeah." Steve shut his eyes against the brightening sun. "Not til later though."

"All right." Nicholas took Steve's arm and led him inside.

Evie was on her way to Patricia's house to spend the rest of the morning and afternoon helping her watch her niece and nephew. Steve's house was on the way, and Evie knew he wouldn't be going to work early today. She had called him the day before and not gotten an answer, and she wondered how his counseling appointment had gone.

She jumped out of her car and went up to the house, knocking on the door. Not getting an answer, she eased the unlocked door open. Steve's car was here, so he probably was too. "Steve, you here?" Evie called.

Evie stepped inside and wandered through the kitchen, then into Steve's room. "Anyone home?" she asked.

"Sorry, Evie. I'm in here," came Steve's voice from behind the closed bathroom door.

"Oh! I'll just wait here then."

Evie took a seat on the couch and waited for Steve to come out. She heard the toilet flush and the water running, then he opened the door and sat next to her.

"You don't look good," Evie observed, biting her bottom lip.

"I don't feel good either. I've been throwing up," Steve said. "Don't worry though. I don't have anything. It's just cause I was drinking early this morning."

"Aw, Steve." Evie touched his shoulder, then rubbed his arm.

"I walked out on the counseling appointment."

"What? I thought you wanted to go." Evie raised an eyebrow.

"I thought I did. I didn't like the way it made me feel though." Steve shrugged.

"It was only one appointment. What did you talk about?"

"Nothing much. I didn't tell her anything." Steve shook his head. "I just couldn't. That's not what I need."

"Really? But then you drink? How does that help anything?" Evie tried to keep her voice light.

"It kind of did help. Look, Evie. I wanted to talk to you anyway."

"Okay." Evie reached out to stroke Steve's hair, and he looked away from her.

"I can't make you see me like this, Evie. You deserve more and better. I don't have anything to give you anymore," Steve said, emotion coating his voice.

"What do you mean?" Evie asked, pulling her hand away.

"I love you, but we can't be together anymore. I can't do that to you." Steve finally looked at Evie.

"But you can break my heart? I don't want to be with anyone else, Steve. I don't understand." Evie had tears in her eyes, as she reached for Steve's hand.

"I'm not me anymore, Evie, and I don't want to hurt you." Steve felt Evie squeeze his hand, and he didn't return the gesture.

"You don't? But you are hurting me. I love you, Steve," Evie cried. "I know you're going through a lot, but you're still the guy I want."

Evie wrapped her arms around him, and Steve found himself hugging her back. He felt her hair and breathed in the scent of her perfume.

"I'm sorry. I just can't drag you down with me," Steve said, taking a deep breath and letting go.

"Steve, please. Don't push me away," Evie pleaded, her hand touching his cheek.

"You're better off, sweetie. You'll see." Steve's eyes met hers.

"Please, sweetheart. I need you. I'll come back later, and we can talk."

Steve only shook his head and looked away again.

"I still love you," Evie said, tears falling. "And I'm not giving up that easily. I want to be here for you," she said, as she stood and ran from the house.

"What the hell are you thinking?"

Steve heard Soda's voice yelling at him, as he came out of the bathroom after throwing up yet again. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Evie called me crying her eyes out, man! She said you broke up with her! Why would you do that?" Soda yelled.

"She deserves better. I care about her too much to make her see me like this," Steve said, plopping down on the couch and taking a sip of water.

"Stevie, you're going through a lot, but... Is this about what you said yesterday? The thing about what anyone else sees when we look at you?" Soda asked, sitting next to him.

"Part of it." Steve shrugged. "But more than that too."

"You feel that bad about yourself? And drinking now too? Come on, don't go down that road."

"So I got drunk." Steve shrugged. "You never said anything when I drank before."

"Not the same, and you know it. I know what you're trying to do now. You're scared, and you're trying to run from all of this."

"Just shut up, Sodapop." Steve closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, then felt Soda's hand on his arm.

"I will not. I know this is bad, man, but you can't do that. Why are you trying to screw up everything you have? You walked out of a counseling appointment you chose to go to. You got drunk, and after the talk we had, I know that ain't what you need." Soda squeezed Steve's arm. "Then you broke up with Evie. Tell me what you're trying to do. This doesn't make anything better, and it's not fair to her."

Steve's eyes snapped open. "You don't know anything," he said, his expression hard.

"The hell I don't! I know you told me you didn't want to die. Are you sure about that? Cause you seem like you're out to sabotage anything now!"

Steve's face softened for a moment. "Honestly, man, it did cross my mind, but yes, I'm sure. I didn't lie to you about that."

"You're being totally honest?"

"Yeah." Steve nodded.

"Then, what are you trying to do here? You're making it all harder, Steve. You're not being fair to yourself. You're not giving yourself a chance!"

Steve jumped to his feet and turned his eyes to Soda. "You don't get it!"

"I'm not claiming to get it! But talk to me, please." Soda also got to his feet.

"No! You don't understand!"

"Why?" Soda shot back, staring right into Steve's eyes. "Cause I wasn't abused? No sick woman touched me, so you can't tell me what's happening?"

"Exactly!"

"But if you hadn't pulled me away from your house that one night, I would've been! So let me fuckin' help you now!"

Steve froze and stared at Soda. "You remember that?"

"Yes! So talk to me! Tell me why you walked out at your appointment. I know there's more to it than what you said. And tell me what made you decide to drink and what made you break up with Evie!"

"I can't. You can't help. I can't tell you what's in my head!"

"Why? You can tell me anything." Soda stood closer to Steve. "Tell me what exactly is in these damn memories that has you so messed up," he said, gripping his friend's shoulders to hold him in place.

"No, I can't! I can't tell anyone all of that. You know too much already. I keep reliving it. I don't want to talk about it anymore!"

"Steve, you're going to keep reliving it if you don't talk to somebody."

Steve jerked away from Soda, taking several steps back. "I can't. I'm already so fuckin' ashamed of myself, Sodapop!" he shouted.

"You don't have anything to be ashamed of, buddy."

Steve only shook his head, as he walked away, heading to his bedroom.

"Wait!" Soda called after him.

"I don't want to talk anymore," Steve said, then slammed his door.

"But I do!" Soda yelled, going forward and throwing the door open.

"Just go home," Steve said, running a hand through his hair. "I don't feel good, and I don't want to do this right now."

"You know what?" Soda held his hands up. "Fine. I have to go get ready for work anyway, and you do too."

"I'm not going."

"Did you call the boss?" Soda asked, narrowing his eyes.

"No," Steve said.

"What? Why?"

"I don't know. I just don't care, and I feel sick anyway."

"Steve, what the hell are you doing?" Soda asked, coming again to stand toe to toe with Steve.

Steve clenched his fists and stared at Soda's face so close to his. "Please leave me alone," he said, through his teeth.

"You can't do this, forever, buddy." Soda's face softened. "You know I'll cover for you. But don't ruin everything good about your life cause of Clara. You don't deserve that."

"Don't, Soda," Steve yelled, reaching up and gripping the front of his friend's shirt. "Please go home."

"Easy, man." Soda touched Steve's arm. "I'll go. Just think about what I said."

Steve let go of him and collapsed onto his bed, turning over to get away from Soda's searching gaze.

"Please give yourself a chance, Steve. Don't give up," Soda said quietly, before he left Steve alone in his room.


	20. Chapter 20

Nicholas didn't get home until it was after dark, and he found Steve curled up on his bed. He looked at his pale face and closed eyes, wondering what was going on in his son's head, even as he slept.

Before Nicholas could say a word, Steve stirred and looked up at him.

"We have to talk, Son," Nicholas said, easing himself down next to Steve.

"What about?" Steve asked, stretching out and turning over to look at his dad.

"I went by the DX on my break. I thought you'd be there."

"I'm sick, Dad."

"It doesn't sound like that's the only reason you skipped work. I talked to Soda."

Steve sighed and rolled his eyes. "I don't want to talk, Dad."

"You know what, Steve? That's exactly what we're going to do. I have a lot of regrets, and one of them is not listening to you back then after Clara left."

Steve bolted up and fled from the room, with Nicholas on his heels. "I'm not doing this, Dad. I know what you're trying to do, and I'm not that little boy anymore," he said, pulling on his shoes.

"I didn't listen then, so tell me now. Tell me about the night I caught her in your room. What was she doing? What was she saying?" Nicholas asked.

Steve shook his head and covered his ears. "Stop, Dad!" he yelled, fighting tears.

"But that's what is still in your head, isn't it? You can still feel her and hear her, so tell me about it," Nicholas pleaded, grabbing Steve's arm, as he tried to walk away.

"No, Dad. I can't!" Steve cried, tears falling down his cheeks.

"Then, tell me how you felt, what you thought, and why you wouldn't tell anyone. What was going on in that little boy's head?" Nicholas felt tears come into his own eyes.

Steve took several fast, shallow breaths, and Nicholas reached for him, about to pull him into an embrace.

"Don't, Dad! Don't!" Steve sobbed, as he pushed at his dad's chest.

Nicholas wrapped his arms around him anyway, and Steve continued to fight. "Don't! I don't deserve it! I don't deserve any of it!" he cried, before collapsing against his dad.

"Shh. Quit fighting, Son. Stop trying to hide, and just talk to me." Nicholas held his son, stroking his hair.

Steve let out a heavy breath and closed his eyes, hiding his face in his dad's chest and easing his own arms around him too. "I'm so exhausted, Dad."

"I know. That's why I want you to tell me what's in your head right now. Tell me what you're fighting. Tell me exactly what you remember." Nicholas pulled away slightly to look at Steve's tear stained face and met his eyes. "I wish I'd have asked you then, but I'm doing it now."

Soda sat in the grass, his back against the porch steps. He still wore his DX uniform and was puffing on his third cigarette of the night.

"Hey, little buddy, planning on camping out tonight?" Darry asked, opening the front door and looking in Soda's direction.

"Dar, Steve ain't doing good at all," Soda said, exhaling smoke.

"What do you mean?" Darry asked, as he sat on the step next to Soda.

"It's like he's scared, so he's trying to fight everything. He even broke up with Evie. She told me he was drinking this morning too, and it sure made him sick. He even blew that off, like it's no big deal, but I think it is. That's like what his dad tried to do."

"I wish I knew how to help, Soda." Darry patted his shoulder.

Soda put the cigarette out and looked up at Darry. "I noticed something though. He kept getting mad today. He didn't like it when I told him it sounds like he's scared."

"Cause he probably is, and he doesn't want to admit it yet."

"And he got really pissed when I told him he's not giving himself a chance if he just hides or makes things harder." Soda shook his head. "Man, when I told him he didn't deserve for his life to be messed up cause of what Clara did, I thought he was going to hit me."

"It sounds like he's hurting real bad and just can't figure out how to deal." Darry sighed. "He walked away from the counselor and didn't tell her anything, right?"

"Yep, and I swear he seems worse since then."

"There's something you have to see, Pepsi Cola. Steve sounds like he's scared to death, and maybe you know this already, but when someone abuses a kid, it confuses them a hell of a lot."

"What do you mean?" Soda wondered.

"I mean someone Steve trusted abused him, and kids have a way of making anything bad that happens their fault, even when there's no way it could be." Darry's gaze softened, as he looked into Soda's eyes. "That might be why he's lashing out and not letting anyone help much right now. So just hang tight, okay?"

"He has said more than once that he feels guilty and even ashamed. I guess I just didn't really get why because he didn't do anything wrong. I mean, what does he think he did?"

"I don't know, but he has a lot to make peace with, so just stick with him. And you know Steve. He can be stubborn under the best of circumstances, so he's going to be real stubborn dealing with something like this." Darry squeezed Soda's shoulder.

"Being stubborn might be one reason he didn't lose it when we were kids." Soda sighed, fighting tears.

"I can't imagine what it's like, Soda, but I know when someone reveals a secret like what Steve's had locked inside him all this time, it must get too real." Darry shook his head, his hand still on Soda's shoulder. "But he's tough."

"It has gotten too real for him. He buried a lot, and I hardly know what to do to help, Dar. It's like he's all over the place." Soda let a few tears fall. "I never know if he's going to cry or tell me to shut the hell up and get out."

"Just be there. He's got a lot of feelings coming out all at once, little buddy. And he trusts you. He knows you'll still be there, even if he's a jerk to you." Darry ruffled Soda's hair and thumbed away a tear. "Come on inside now. I saved you some dinner. Maybe we'll talk more later."

Evie had gotten home from Patricia's house a few hours ago. After she'd gotten there, she had used her friend's phone to call Sodapop. Evie felt she couldn't tell Patricia or any of her girlfriends everything about Steve, but she knew Soda was already well aware of the situation. He may even know more than she did.

He had listened to Evie talk and cry, and she appreciated it. She also realized that the first thing Soda would do is go talk to his best friend and try to figure out more of what was happening. He wouldn't just do it because of her either. He would do it for Steve.

Eve had only told Patricia that she and Steve had an argument. She didn't tell her exactly why or that Steve had broken up with her. Eve didn't want to accept that, and she also didn't want her friend to be upset with him. That was one reason she'd gone to Soda. She knew he'd still be in Steve's corner.

Now, Evie sat on the floor of her bedroom with her journal in her lap and a pencil in her hand. She'd been writing out her feelings, as she cried. She had hoped writing it down would help, but so far, the words Steve had said still echoed in her mind, and she didn't feel any better.

_"You deserve more and better."_

_" I don't have anything to give you anymore."_

Evie wasn't exactly sure what Steve had meant by either of those statements, but she did know how she felt about him.

_"I'm not me anymore."_

_"I can't drag you down with me."_

Evie shook her head, feeling frustrated and overwhelmed. She decided to try a new approach and turned to a new page and ripped the paper from the journal, before she started writing again. Maybe Steve wouldn't hear her spoken words right now, but she could still write down what she believed and felt for him to read. Evie wondered if that might even be better. He could have and keep what she needed to say.

Nicholas hated himself right now. He had known already that Steve had just grazed the surface of how he felt and the abuse itself whenever he talked about it. Before tonight, he had never gone deep. Back then, Nicholas hadn't let him, and it was so much worse than he had realized. He'd asked Steve to talk tonight, and his son had poured out all those old thoughts and emotions that had been locked into a box in a little boy's mind all that time ago.

He stared out the kitchen window at the starry night sky. They had talked for hours, but he had put Steve to bed, kissing his head and apologizing yet again, as he promised to keep being there for him. Nicholas was determined to do what he should have back then, and maybe Steve wasn't that little boy anymore, but he was still his dad.

Steve's words tonight played back in his mind, like a record stuck on repeat.

_"I always thought I was a good kid, but after the first time, I wondered what I'd done wrong and what must be wrong with me."_

_"I really liked Clara, Dad, and I thought she liked me too."_

Listening to Steve, Nicholas had thought he could sense the shame and fear his son still carried, as if they were a presence in the room with them.

_"After it kept happening, I wondered if anyone would look at me and know somehow."_

_"I kept telling her it was wrong, and I wouldn't tell anyone, if she would just stop."_

Steve had felt ashamed and scared for so long that he wore these emotions, like the shirt on his back. Yet, when Steve talked, finally giving them a way out of their forced silence, Nicholas could hear the fear in his voice. He could see the shame, as if the word itself had been written on his face. What Steve locked away finally became visible.

_"I couldn't understand how she could try to be like Mom, then do that to me."_

_"I always told her please don't hurt me anymore, and I couldn't understand why she would. She'd say I was a good kid and then kiss me on the head or my cheek when it happened. It confused me so much."_

Mixed in with the fear and shame was confusion. Even though he knew Steve wasn't a little kid now, Nicholas thought he still sounded like one when he spoke of the way Clara's actions had perplexed him and jumbled up his already whirling emotions.

_"I didn't know what to do because I didn't want to ruin what you guys had, and I didn't know what you might say."_

_"I was so surprised when you walked in that night, but I was still afraid she'd stay, and I was even afraid you might get mad at me."_

Nicholas felt his heart ache in his chest. Steve had felt so ashamed and confused, yet he hadn't come to him because he didn't want to ruin his relationship with Clara. His son had been hurting, like no child ever should and felt he couldn't talk to the person who should've been able to protect and help him. Nicholas hadn't hesitated for a moment when he'd told Clara to get out and stay away. Maybe he'd been blind before, but he never would have chosen anyone over Steve. Once he knew what was happening, that woman wasn't going near his son ever again.

_"When she died, I felt bad because I told her to go away. That was never what I meant though."_

_"And then I thought you missed her, and that made me feel bad too."_

Steve had told Nicholas not long ago that he felt guilty when Clara died, but they hadn't really delved into why. Steve had tried to brush it off, saying he was just a kid. Yet, that was exactly the point. He was just a kid, and he was trying to make sense of the heinous abuse he suffered at the hands of someone he trusted. At the same time, he was trying to cope with knowing that same person had killed herself, just after she got caught abusing him. Nicholas could now see the sources of the shame and guilt his son suffered, and he had left him alone back then to handle these emotions that were too much for a little kid.

While they talked, Nicholas had done his best to hold it together. A few tears had slipped out, but he was determined to listen to everything Steve had to say. He had never interrupted him and made an effort not to react in any way that might make Steve feel worse. However, now Nicholas was alone, and his son was asleep. He laid his head down on the dining table where he sat and wept for all the memories and emotions that afflicted his young son, causing him so much pain. He wept for the suffering Steve still continued to endure because of Clara's abuse, and he prayed through his tears, asking God to please let him be able to help now. Nicholas hoped his talk with Steve tonight was the open door his son needed to finally heal, and he was going to keep making sure his son knew he was right there beside him this time.


	21. Chapter 21

Steve stared at the television the next morning, but he was hardly seeing the screen. He kept thinking of the conversation he'd had with his dad the night before.

When Nicholas had embraced him, Steve felt his defenses crumble, like the fight was draining out of him. He felt weak in that moment, as Nicholas peppered him with questions. He didn't want to lash out or push anymore, even though a part of him was saying he didn't want the comfort, that he didn't deserve it. As his dad held him, Steve felt like a little kid again and finally gave in, accepting and returning the affection, as the answers to Nicholas' questions poured out of him.

This was the first time Steve had gone into much detail about Clara's abuse and the thoughts and emotions that still remained in his mind. This was the first time he had explained anything that happened, the only time he had gone beyond just saying she had touched him in his bed at night. He hadn't only danced across the tip of the truth by saying she hurt him, and he felt bad about it. Steve had gone back to that time in his life and told his dad about what Clara did, what she said to him, and what he'd been thinking.

These were the horrible memories that ripped his mind from the present and hurled him back into the past. Not long ago, Steve would've believed that these old thoughts and feelings would lose power over time, that they would be watered down by now and not even hurt as much, but he had learned that wasn't so. They were so real, they were nearly alive, and they were what his mind twisted back to when it felt like he could actually see, hear, and feel Clara all over again. Steve would, in a flash of memory, become that traumatized boy, as those past thoughts pushed him back in time to the days he had tried to forget.

Steve knew this was the conversation he should've had with his dad back when Clara left. This was what that little boy had needed to talk about. Now, however, there was more because these old memories that Steve had tried to bury and lock away had seeped into the life he now lived, creating more pain. He remembered what he'd told Nicholas about how he was feeling now.

_"It's like part of me is broken and can't be fixed."_

_"And I just feel so full of shame."_

Like Steve knew he would, Nicholas had assured him that he was there for him and tried to tell him that he was hurting, but that didn't mean he was broken. He had heard so many times now that he didn't do anything wrong, and nothing was his fault. Yet, Steve was struggling terribly with that now. The shame that had settled so deep inside was the reason he felt broken.

_"Laura was so nice, I couldn't take it because I knew she'd want to help, and I feel like I don't deserve her, Soda, Evie, or even you trying to help me."_

_"It's like some part of me is telling me I deserve to hurt."_

Out of everything about his current feelings, this had been the hardest for Steve to admit. The shame ran deep, and he wanted to hide from it. It was what had made him push Evie away and what had made him try to shut Soda out. It was what had made him seek relief and comfort in alcohol, instead of going to his dad when the memories took him away again.

_"Soda keeps telling me I'm scared, and he's right."_

_"I keep trying to shut down and push everyone away, but hell, you guys won't let me."_

Soda had tried to break down the walls and come very close to succeeding, and that was what had caused Steve to get angry. He was scared, and that was because it terrified him that anyone else could see that so much more lay beneath his vague references to the abuse and his own emotions and memories. It also scared Steve to realize that something that happened so long ago hurt this much now.

Then, there was Nicholas, who had come in and done the polar opposite of what he did back then by directly going into the heart of what was going on, and in the end, Steve found he couldn't turn away. He needed the love and comfort, as much as the guilt within him told him he couldn't accept it.

_"I couldn't let Evie see all that's in me. I can't let it seem like I'm weak when I'm supposed to be the man in her life."_

_"I know I've been making it harder for myself, but I'm not sure how to make it easier."_

Steve loved Evie. She was the sweetest girl he'd ever known, and she would stick with him through anything. Nicholas was his dad, and Soda was like his brother, and they both had always been in his life. Yet, Evie hadn't even known Steve all that long, and she was willing to stay with him, no matter what. He loved her, and it scared him for her to see how weak he must look right now. Steve couldn't help but wonder if she'd look at him and see a man falling apart all because of what a woman had done to him years ago, and that woman wasn't even alive now.

Steve knew he couldn't fix anything by hurting the people in his life, but he couldn't make the shame or any of these other emotions or memories disappear either. He didn't know what else to do to make it easier though, so he figured why not fight? Steve had known he couldn't keep it up, however, because these people who loved him wouldn't back down.

Nicholas had said words Steve was trying to take to heart. He wanted to believe his dad, instead of these ever echoing sounds of shame, fear, and confusion that exhausted him. He longed to replace these with his dad's voice that spoke of love, reassurance, and comfort. If Steve could, he would permanently etch Nicholas' words into his memory and hope they'd eventually overcome the awful words he was still saying to himself that had first materialized in the midst of trauma.

* * *

"Hey, man," Soda said, as he came up to the fence and saw Steve sitting in the shade in the backyard.

"Hey. What are you doing here?" Steve asked, glancing up from his spot in the grass, as Soda opened the gate.

"Just came to see you," Soda said, walking across the yard and sitting down beside Steve.

"Oh." Steve looked down at the ground. "I thought you might not want to for a while. I was kind of a jerk."

"No, you weren't, man." Soda shook his head.

"But I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"Well, I yelled too." Soda shrugged.

"But I yelled more, and I'm sorry I tried to push you away."

"It's okay. I think I get it."

"I'm sorry I almost hit you." Steve blinked and glanced at Soda.

"Stevie, stop it. It ain't a contest, and I ain't mad at you. It don't even matter how much you yell at me, I'm not going anywhere."

"I know." Steve focused on the tree next to them.

"And even if you did hit me, I'd bounce right back. I'm like a boomerang, man. You can't get rid of me. I'll still come right back at you." Soda grinned at his friend.

Steve shook his head and fiddled with the grass near him.

"You really thought I'd be mad at you?" Soda asked and Steve shrugged. "But I couldn't be cause I know you're hurting."

"Yeah, and I've felt like I didn't deserve you or anyone else trying to help me. That's why I was lashing out and part of why I was drinking, and I knew you could see what I was doing, that I was scared and wanting to hide."

"Aw, buddy, the only thing you don't deserve is to keep hurting. And I know you, so yeah, I saw it." Soda nodded.

"Everything you said...Man, you hit a nerve every time." Steve finally met Soda's eyes.

"That's what made you mad. I could tell that much. I hope you know I wasn't trying to hurt you."

"I know. But it's cause of this shame I still have. It's like part of me wants help, and another part says I can't have it because I don't deserve it."

"Can I ask you something?" Soda laid a hand on Steve's shoulder.

"I guess."

"You keep saying you feel guilty and ashamed. What is it you think you did wrong? You told me before you felt guilty when Clara died. That isn't all, is it?"

Steve took a deep breath. "I don't know. I just feel like it has to be my fault that she...Well, you know. That she ever touched me and..." His voice shook, and Soda squeezed his shoulder. "And that it kept happening. Even more than that, it feels like something is wrong with me because she ever did that and that I...I don't know. It's like I'm messed up or broken or something."

"I wish you could believe it's not your fault. Not her death and not anything she did to you."

"Last night, my dad and I talked, and I told him a lot of things that I hadn't before. I got a lot out, you know?"

"Good. You needed that. You've needed that for a long time."

"That was the most I've ever talked about what happened and how it made me feel. Man, I was so scared and confused then too. My dad seems like he's really trying to do what he wishes he had then. He told me to tell him what I remember, so I did." Steve took another deep breath. "After going through all of that, it's pretty easy to see why I've been so screwed up."

"I'm real glad you talked to him. It has to help."

"Yeah. I didn't want to, but when my dad got home, he wouldn't let me get away."

"What happened?"

"He started asking questions about what Clara did and said and how I felt. And he held me and wouldn't let go, even when I fought. I just crumbled then and started talking." Steve's voice cracked, as he stared up at the sky.

"I'm glad he did that. I was kind of hoping he would. I'm glad he got through to you." Soda squeezed Steve's arm.

"It's like the talk we should've had back then."

"You dad has seemed like he really wants to do better, Steve, and it looks like he actually is."

"Yeah. I told him what I wanted to when I was a kid. Man, I remember some of the stuff I told him about like it happened yesterday."

"You don't have to tell me anything, but I want you to know you can if there's still anything you need to talk about. We're not kids anymore, and it's okay to talk about it. And I promise I'll still see the same person, no matter what you say."

Steve looked down and squeezed his eyes shut. "Thanks, buddy," he choked out, as he felt tears well up, and Soda tossed an arm around him.

"Can I ask you something else?" Soda asked, when Steve looked up again.

Steve nodded.

"Are you going to talk to Evie?"

"I don't know. Not right now. I mean, yeah, I talked a lot and all, but Soda, I don't feel any different. It's all still there. The things I said to her..." Steve swallowed. "I still feel all of it, and I don't think I should try to be with her right now."

"That's okay, buddy." Soda patted Steve's back. "I'm sure she'll listen whenever you want to talk to her. She didn't sound like she was going to give up too easily. She really loves you."

"Last night my dad listened to a lot that I needed to say, and he even said some things I'm going to try to remember, but it just ain't that easy."

* * *

Evie put down the pencil and read over the letter she'd written last night, then rewritten this morning. She wanted to say enough, but not too much, and she wanted to write the truth, without hurting Steve. His words and actions were enough to make anyone see that he was hurting, and she hoped she wouldn't add to that.

Evie picked up the pencil again and added "Love always, Evie," then "P.S. Please talk to me when you're ready." She folded the letter and put it into an envelope she had labeled with Steve's name.


	22. Chapter 22

Evie peeked around the corner to see if Steve's car was at the DX. She spotted it, then glanced inside to see that both Soda and Steve were busy with customers. She walked toward Steve's car and took the enveloped with her letter out of her purse. Evie quickly slid it underneath one of the car's windshield wipers, then walked away and down the street.

* * *

"Think you can change the oil in my car, man?" TwoBit asked, as he parked near where Steve was standing.

"Sure, buddy," Steve said, but it'll cost you extra." He grinned, as he popped open the hood of TwoBit's car.

"Aw, Stevie. You know I'm just a poor Greaser boy," TwoBit joked.

"A poor Greaser boy, who needs a job!" Steve shot back.

"Yeah, yeah. One day." TwoBit grinned. "Maybe I could come work here with you and Soda."

"I don't know. We'd lose business around here if word got around you were messing with people's cars," Steve kidded, as he checked the oil.

"Nah, I'd just watch anyway." TwoBit laughed. "Hey, Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm still real sorry I scared you that day."

Steve sighed. "I told you, TwoBit. It wasn't you. It wasn't your fault," he said, as he started to fill the car with oil.

"All right. I guess it still kinda bugs me, you know?" TwoBit shrugged.

"Yeah, I get it, but like I said, it wasn't you. You really think you could scare anyone that much?" Steve shot his friend a grin, as he finished with the car and let the hood slam shut.

"Nah, I guess not." TwoBit headed inside the station.

* * *

Steve reached inside his pocket and found his pack of cigarettes wasn't there. It was almost time to break for lunch, so he walked over to his car. He was unlocking door when something white on the windshield caught his eye.

"What's that?" Steve wondered aloud, as he reached to slide the envelope from under the windshield wiper. He saw his name and recognized Evie's handwriting.

* * *

Nicholas had left the store to go grab lunch, but he still had one more stop to make. He pulled into the parking lot of the church, where he'd prayed not long ago. After the way he and Steve had talked a couple of nights ago and even in the days just before, Nicholas believed God had heard him.

He got out of his car and approached the door of the church. After finding it was open, he stepped inside. Nicholas looked around, but didn't see anyone. He walked forward and stood in front of the altar. Sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, as he looked at the piano and the podium where a preacher usually stood. Nicholas felt a sense of peace surround him, as he dropped to his knees. He laid his head on the altar, as the words flowed from his lips.

"Please forgive me, God. For not listening to Steve before. I know I hurt him more. After everything he told me, I know so much more now than I did then. I can't tell him enough how sorry I am that it happened and how sorry I am that I let him handle that pain all alone," Nicholas prayed, then glanced too see the stained glass window with the cross lit up by the sunshine.

"I feel like I be betrayed him in such a terrible way. I added to his pain, while I was trying to ignore my own. I'm so sorry. If he wants to blame someone, let him blame me. Just help him not blame himself. He doesn't deserve any of this pain." He stared at the cross, then laid his head back down.

"I love him so much, but I know I didn't show it. Help me do that now. Please let him hear what I say to him, Lord. I know I haven't been to church or anything in so long, but I never forgot about you, and I know you're still there."

* * *

"What's that?" Soda asked Steve, as he found his friend sitting on the hood of his car, smoking a cigarette and holding an envelope.

"Letter from Evie," Steve said, as he put the cigarette out.

"Oh," Soda said, hopping up on the hood of the car to sit next to Steve.

Steve rubbed his head. "Man, my head's starting to hurt."

"You've been under a lot of stress, man."

"Yeah, I guess so." Steve eyed the envelope.

"You going to read it?"

"Not here. I'm not sure what she may have said, you know?"

"I get it." Soda nodded.

Steve sighed and stood up, then opened his car door and placed the letter in the glove box. He sat in the driver's seat for a moment and closed his eyes, leaning his head back.

"Hey, guys!" came Pony's voice.

"Hey, Pone! What are you up to?" Soda called back.

"Was looking for TwoBit to see if he wanted to hang out at the Dingo with me. Thought I'd come by here and say hi," Pony said, as he came to stand next to Soda.

"TwoBit was just here. Not sure where he went though," Soda said.

"Probably starting trouble somewhere, knowing him," Pony said, grinning. "Hey, you all right there, Steve?" he asked, looking at his brother's best friend.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Steve said, as he touched his head again, then started to stand up.

He blinked, as the world started to spin, and he grabbed the car door to keep from falling.

"Maybe you should sit back down," Soda said, eyeing his friend.

"No," Steve shook his head. "We've only got a few more minutes. I'm fine," he said, as he tried to focus on Soda, then saw the world tilt again.

Steve started to take a step forward, then clenched his eyes shut, feeling himself start to sweat. Soda came up next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "What is it, Steve," he asked.

"Just dizzy," Steve said.

"You need to sit back down," Soda said, and Steve nodded, as he dropped back into the car seat.

"I'll go grab him a bottle of water," Pony said, heading inside the station.

"Thanks, Pony," Soda called, still beside Steve.

"I think you're just stressed."

"Yeah. I was okay, then my head started to hurt, and it was like the world was spinning," Steve was saying when Pony returned with a bottle of water that he handed to him.

Steve nodded his thanks, as he opened the water and started to drink. After several swallows, he put the cap back on and took a deep breath.

"You all right now?" Pony asked.

"I think so. Just a dizzy spell," Steve said.

"I've had that before. Right after Johnny and Dallas died, when I was still trying to recover from the concussion and the fever. I think a lot of it was stress because I'd just gone back to school and everything," Pony said, leaning against Steve's car and lighting a cigarette.

"Need to go inside? It's pretty hot too. That might not help," Soda said.

"Nah. I'm okay right here," Steve said, taking a few more swallows of water, as he closed his eyes for a moment when the world tilted.

"You're still dizzy, aren't you?" Pony asked, taking a drag off his cigarette.

"How do you know?" Steve asked, looking away from Pony and Soda.

"You're gripping that steering wheel so hard, your knuckles are turning white," Pony said, as he exhaled smoke and nodded his head toward the steering wheel.

Steve immediately let go and held the bottle of water with both hands.

"Stay here as long as you need, buddy. I'm going to go ahead and go back inside before it gets busy again," Soda said, still eyeing Steve, as he walked away.

Pony nodded at him. "See you later, Soda," he called, taking another puff of his cigarette. "You eat today, Steve?"

"Kid, I don't need this," Steve said, laying his head on the steering wheel.

"Just asking. I didn't always eat or sleep well when I was stressed out. Believe me, Darry was on my back about it all the time, but he just wanted to help. That's all I'm doing too," Pony assured him. "Look, I know I'm not Sodapop, but that doesn't mean I can't care."

"I'm not hungry much lately, but yeah, I have eaten today. And I know that. You can go, Kid. You don't have to stay here with me. I'm fine." Steve rubbed his eyes, feeling the ache in his head begin to dull.

"Quit trying to be tough." Pony put the cigarette out.

"I don't have to try. I am tough, Pony," Steve said, cracking a grin.

"You going to go back to being a pain in my ass, Steve Randle?" Pony grinned at him.

"Shoot, Kid, I never meant to stop!"

* * *

"Hey, Sodapop! Think fast!" Steve yelled, as he came up to the counter and tossed his best friend a can of Pepsi.

"Woah, Stevie!" Soda said, as he caught the drink and popped it open. "You seem like you're feeling better."

"Yeah, I'm good." Steve said, as he popped open his own can of Pepsi and took a sip.

"Good." Soda grinned, taking a sip of his own drink.

"Want to hang out at the drag races tonight?" Steve asked.

"Sure!"

Soda watched Steve curiously, as his friend walked back outside to service the car that had just pulled up. He blinked and shook his head, before turning to see some customers pushing open the door.

"Hello. Welcome to the DX!" Soda said, trying to ignore the questions in his mind.

* * *

"Hi, Son!" Nicholas greeted, as he came inside the house and started taking off his shoes.

"Hey, Dad. I'm not going to be home til late tonight. Me and Soda are going to go hang out at the drag races," Steve said, as he put on a clean shirt and ran a comb through his hair.

"It'll be good for you to go out and have some fun," Nicholas said.

"Yep." Steve tossed down the comb and grabbed his car keys from the table.

"You doing okay, Son?" Nicholas tilted his head and stared at Steve.

"I'm fine, Dad." Steve grinned at him. "But thanks for asking. It's still kind of early, so I'll be at the Curtis'," he said, going out the front door.

Nicholas gazed out the kitchen window, watching Steve get into his car. Maybe he's turning a corner, he thought. But I'll still talk to him later.

* * *

"TwoBit, move! I can't put the sheets on the bed if you're sitting in the middle of it!" Pony shouted, as he threw the clean sheets at his buddy.

TwoBit laughed and threw the sheets back at Pony, who was leaning over to pick them up when he looked over and saw Steve.

TwoBit was still laughing, as Steve shook his head at Pony and put a finger over his lips. Pony grinned, as Steve silently let his hands drop onto each of TwoBit's shoulders.

Steve chuckled when TwoBit jumped. "Now, we're even," he said.

"Yeah, yeah," TwoBit said, a smile on his face.

"Now, move, TwoBit, so I can put these sheets on!" Pony said, still smiling.

"Hey, what's up, guys? I heard you laughing," Soda said, as he came into the bedroom.

"I just scared TwoBit," Steve said.

"You did not! I didn't see you there is all!"

Soda laughed. "Hey, Pony, why are you cleaning?" he asked.

"Darry said I had to if I wanted to go out tonight, but the more I start to clean up, the more I wonder why I'm doing it," Pony said, as he put the top sheet on the bed and tucked it under the mattress.

"Huh?" Soda asked.

"Soda, you're kind of a slob," Steve pointed out, grinning at his friend, as he glanced around the room. "I know Pony didn't do all of this."

"I am not!" Soda insisted, as he put a pillow case on a pillow.

"Oh, yeah? See all the candy wrappers and dirty socks thrown around in here? And that plate over there is from days ago," Pony said, gesturing to the mess.

"All right. All right," Soda said, as he chuckled. "But you guys still love me," he added and started picking up the mess Pony was talking about.

"Aw, it ain't that bad in here," TwoBit said. "You oughta see my room right now."

"I'd be scared to," Darry said, walking in then. "Having a party in here?" he asked, with a grin.

"Yeah. Sorry we forgot to invite you, Dar," Soda said, plopping down onto the bed.

"That's all right. I see you all enough, little buddy. I could use a night alone," Darry said, chuckling.

"Hey, Soda, we better get going," Steve said.

"What are you guys doing?" Darry asked.

"Hanging out at the drag races," Soda said. "I'll help you finish cleaning first, Pony," he added.

"I'll be outside, Soda," Steve said, as he went out.

"Me too," TwoBit said, following Steve.

"Be back by midnight, Soda," Darry said, as he headed to his own room.

* * *

Soda and Steve were in Steve's car on their way to the drag strip. Soda turned down the radio that Steve had just turned up.

"What, man? I like the music," Steve said, looking over at his friend.

"Just a second. You ever read Evie's letter?" Soda asked.

"Not yet." Steve shook his head and turned his eyes back to the road. "I need a break from thinking about anything."

"Okay. I can dig that, and I think I agree," Soda said, as he turned the radio back up.


	23. Chapter 23

Soda and Steve stood in the middle of a crowd on the drag strip.

"Who is that guy?" Steve asked, pointing to the boy in the silver Chevy.

"I'm not sure," Soda said, shrugging. "One of Tim Shepard's guys, I think."

"He looks familiar."

"Maybe he used to hang out with Dal or something." Soda nodded his head toward the boy in the red Thunderbird. "I've seen him before too. Back when Johnny and me would go watch Dal in the rodeos."

"Those are some tuff cars," Steve said, as both drivers started their engines and took off down the strip.

"Sure are," Soda said. "Both are fast enough to win this too. Darry would kill me if I ever drove like that!"

"You ain't kiddin'." Steve watched both cars round the corner up ahead, the Thunderbird trailing behind the Chevy.

"Let's move down here, so we can see when they come back around," Soda said, moving to the left.

"Sure." Steve started to move with him, as Soda watched for the cars.

After a few minutes, the Chevy came back around, tires squealing, as it rounded the curve. The Thunderbird was just seconds behind. The crowd fell silent, waiting to see which would cross the finish line first.

"They still got a couple more rounds, right?" Soda asked, glancing over his shoulder to look at Steve. "Where'd he go?" he wondered, realizing Steve wasn't next to him.

Soda turned around and looked toward where they had just been standing. The crowd was cheering for the Chevy that had crossed the finish line when Soda spotted Steve. A brunette girl was talking to him and sliding her arm around him, as Steve was slowly pulling away. Soda watched for a moment and saw the girl draw closer to Steve. Noticing his friend's expression and obvious discomfort, he thought he knew what was going on, but Soda didn't want to say anything because he realized it would embarrass Steve.

Soda turned his head to glance at the strip where the Chevy and the Thunderbird still raced, then back where he'd seen Steve standing. This time, Steve was gone, and only the brunette stood there, looking like she was confused. Soda quickly walked over to her.

"He has a girlfriend," Soda said to her, even though that wasn't technically the truth.

"He could've just said that. He didn't have to run away," she said, turning her attention back to the race.

Soda looked toward where he knew Steve's car was parked. He saw his friend standing next to his car, facing away from the crowd as he lit a cigarette. He wasn't sure if he should give Steve a few minutes or go talk to him. Soda glanced back at the race, seeing the Chevy cross the finish line once more, as the crowd cheered. He looked back at Steve and saw him lean against the car, before putting the cigarette out and dropping his head into his hands. Soda took that as his signal and began walking over to him.

Steve was silent for several moments after he saw Soda standing next to him. "You didn't see that, did you?" he asked.

"Part of it. I thought you were still beside me til I looked over," Soda said.

"What kind of guy am I, Sodapop?" Steve asked. "I can't even stand for a girl to come on to me. It ain't just cause of Evie either."

"I know, buddy. I saw the look on your face." Soda sighed.

"So much for taking a break from thinking about things. I need a drink."

"Steve..."

"I'm not, Soda. I'm not going to do it. Just saying I feel like it. That's all."

"Want to go back and watch the next set of cars race?"

"Nah. I feel awkward in this crowd now. The Chevy win? I wasn't looking anymore."

"I think so. I was walking this way on the last round."

"Let's get out of here, man." Steve pulled his keys from his pocket. "I'm hungry."

* * *

Nicholas sat at the dining table eating a grilled cheese sandwich he'd just made. He hadn't felt like cooking anything more for himself, and he knew Steve would eat while he was out. Taking a bite of the sandwich, Nicholas thought of the church again.

_He'd just finished saying his prayer when a man sat down next to him on the altar. He'd known someone must be there since the door was unlocked._

_"I think he hears you," the man said. "Hi, I'm Samuel," he added, putting out his hand for Nicholas to shake._

_Nicholas shook his head and glanced up at the ceiling. "Oh, I know he does," he said, getting up from his knees and sitting down on the altar next to Samuel._

_"I meant your son," Samuel said, grinning._

_"Oh! I sure hope you're right. I'm Nicholas, by the way."_

_"Just so you know, I wasn't standing here eavesdropping on your prayer. I only heard a little. I was in the room over here working on a sermon." Samuel gestured behind him._

_"Oh. It's all right. I knew someone must be around. I came in anyway though."_

_"So I'm sure you're okay with me saying I don't know what happened with your son, but I'm willing to bet you don't deserve any pain either."_

_Nicholas sighed, glancing at the sunlight streaming through the stained glass. "Out of the two of us, I definitely deserve it more than he does. I messed up a lot. Over and over again."_

_"Does he blame you?"_

_"I know he did, but not sure about now. We've been better lately than we were for a while. Got a lot out in the open."_

_"Ever ask him to forgive you?"_

_"No. No, I haven't. I've told him I'm sorry."_

_"I think you should ask him. I mean, I don't know what happened between you two, but that could never be a bad idea. Sounds like you both need to heal."_

_Nicholas nodded, as he looked at Samuel and absorbed the words. "We do. I'm so much more worried about him though."_

_"But of course. He's your son. It was good talking to you. I've got to get back to that sermon. If you ever want to talk again, I'm here at least a few days a week."_

_"Thanks. I used to come here a long time ago."_

_"My brother-in-law is the pastor here and lets me speak once or twice a month. But I like coming here anyway. It's a nice place to be. See you around," Samuel said, as he stood up._

_"See you. And thanks again. I'm kind of glad you heard me," Nicholas said._

Nicholas finished his sandwich, deciding again that Samuel was right. Both he and Steve did need to heal, and he did want to know if he had his son's forgiveness. Steve had said he didn't blame him for what Clara had done, but what about everything else? Nicholas hadn't been able to forgive himself yet, but it might help if he knew Steve did.

* * *

"Geez, Steve!" Soda said, watching Steve inhale his cheeseburger. "Starving or what?"

"I haven't eaten much lately, and I think it finally caught up with me," Steve said, between bites.

"Looks like it. But that's good," Soda said, eating a fry. "Might be part of why you got dizzy earlier."

"Yeah. Pony was asking me if I'd eaten today right after that. I don't think it was just that though." Steve finished the burger and tossed the wrapper into a trashcan near the both where they sat.

"What else?" Soda wondered, taking a sip of his drink.

"Stress. Like both of you said."

"Makes sense."

Steve took a sip of his own drink. "You ready to go? I am."

Soda ate the last fry, before tossing the box into the trash. "Yep. Let's get out of here."

Steve pulled his car into the Curtis' driveway.

"I'll see you tomorrow, man," Soda said, as he opened the passenger door and stepped out of the car.

When Steve didn't reply, Soda turned to look at him and saw he was holding his head. He looked up at Soda briefly.

"I'm just dizzy. Don't worry," Steve said, before closing his eyes again.

"Well, you can't drive home if that's happening again. Stay here a while. Or stay all night. You know it's no big deal."

"I guess you're right." Steve turned the car off and pulled his keys from the ignition. "Just give me a minute."

"All right." Soda still stood next to the car. "You just ate, so this must be from stress."

"Yeah." Steve spoke quietly, then took a deep breath. "I'm kinda nauseous too. I think I ate too fast." He opened the door and stood up.

"You got it?" Soda asked, shutting the passenger door.

"I think so. It feels better." Steve closed the driver's side door and started to follow Soda inside.

He took a few steps forward before he felt another wave of dizziness and paused for a moment.

"You okay?" Soda drew closer to Steve.

"I don't know. I don't- I don't understand this." Steve saw the world tilt back into place, no longer spinning.

Soda put a hand on his shoulder. "Just come sit down over here," he said, guiding his friend to the porch steps.

Soda went inside to tell Darry he was home, and Steve sat on the steps leaning forward with his head between his knees, breathing deeply. He felt a hand on his back and flinched, but didn't look up.

"Sorry, man. It's just me," Soda said, as he sat next to his friend. "Just try to relax."

"I need help, Sodapop," Steve said, and Soda thought he could hear his voice shake.

"I think I have to agree, buddy. You should get your dad to call that counselor again."

"I guess I'm not so tough, after all. I tried." Steve looked up at Soda.

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Just something I said to Pony earlier. My nerves are just shot, man. I don't get it," Steve looked down, focusing on his lap.

"What?"

"I thought it was supposed to be better after I started talking. It makes me wish I hadn't told anyone what was happening in my head."

Soda sighed. "Man, I don't like thinking about what could've happened if you kept trying to deal with all this by yourself."

Steve thought for a moment before speaking again. "I guess I really can't argue with you there."

"Oh, you could try, but I'd win every time." Soda grinned, as he got to his feet. "Come on, let's get inside."

"I think I'm going to sit here a while."

"Want me to stay with you?"

"Nah, go on in. I'll let you know if I decide to go home."

"All right." Soda opened the door, then let it close behind him, as he stepped inside the house.

Steve stood and walked over to his car, opening the passenger door and then the glove box. He pulled out the envelope that held Evie's letter. Steve stared at it, as he went to sit down on the porch swing.

"Might as well do it now," he mumbled, sliding the letter out of the envelope.

He held his breath, as he started reading.

_Dear, Steve,_

_I didn't get to say much of what I wanted to because I hardly even had the words in the moment, so I decided to write to you. It's not easy for me to write this, and some of it may even be hard for you to read. I want you to know I only say any of this because I love you..._


	24. Chapter 24

Steve let out the breath he'd been holding and looked up, away from the words on the paper. He was afraid for Evie to still love him. He didn't want to hurt her. Steve felt a warm breeze on his face and looked back at the letter, deciding to keep reading.

_First of all, I want to say you are still you. Nothing changed who you are. To me, you're still Steve, a guy I really love. A guy who has always been good to me and treated me right._

_I remember the day you pulled away from my kiss, and after you told me what happened, it made sense. No kid deserves that, and I'm so sorry. I'm also sorry you had to try to go on, like nothing happened. That sounds really hard and traumatic. I know it couldn't have been easy for your dad either, but I hope he knows better now. He must, when you're having such a hard time after so long._

_I hope you realize drinking won't solve anything, and I don't want you to hurt yourself by making things worse. You need to talk about all of this, even if it's not with a counselor. Talk to someone. That is what you need. You told me you couldn't make me see you like this, that you couldn't do that to me, and if you're going to drink or anything else destructive, then you're right. I won't let you do that to me because I care about you to much to watch. But I think, deep down, you already know what you need to do. It just must be really hard, and I can't imagine how you must be feeling._

_I've been afraid of hurting you because I don't want to be the reason you have memories of abuse running through your mind. I can't even imagine how it must feel to be hurt and taken advantage of the way that you were. You haven't told me a lot, and you don't have to, but it doesn't take much to know you were traumatized. If this is about our physical relationship at all, I'm okay with taking it slow from now on, and I would never push you. I don't want you to push yourself either._

_You've said you have been reliving what happened, and I think that must mean you have very vivid memories you need to talk through and emotions you need to confront, or it won't get better. So please talk to someone, even if it's your dad or Sodapop. Please be kind to yourself too. You said I deserve better, but I think you're the one who deserves better than anything that has been happening to cause you pain. You can't control all of it, but you can control what you choose to do about it now._

_You told me you have nothing left to give, but you still have love. I know you care about me, and that's all I need. You've always been good to me, so please be good to yourself too. Don't try to go on like nothing is happening or bothering you. That's one reason you're hurting so much now. You didn't, or maybe couldn't, handle it all when you were a kid. You seemed to be dealing with everything okay when you first told me what happened, and it seems like something changed. I don't know what it was, but I hope it gets better._

_What happened to you when you were a kid might be in the past, but it still matters. And it's okay for it to matter. The memories in your mind are there to tell you something, and that's okay too._

_Love always,_

_Evie_

_P.S. Please talk to me when you're ready._

Steve held the letter in his hands, reading over parts of it again, before he folded it up and tucked it back into the envelope. He glanced over at the window near him and saw Soda. He looked like he was talking to one of his brothers, but he was definitely watching Steve too.

What did I ever do to deserve these people in my life? Steve thought, as he stood up and put the letter in his pocket and went inside the house.

"Hey, Steve," Darry greeted. "Going to crash on our couch tonight? It's all yours if you need it."

"Thanks, but I think I'm going to head home," Steve said.

"You're not dizzy anymore, are you?" Soda asked.

"No. I think that's passed for right now. I'm going to try to get some sleep. Maybe that'll help," Steve said, as he pulled his car keys from his pocket.

"All right, man. See you tomorrow," Soda said.

* * *

"Dad, you awake?" Steve asked quietly, opening Nicholas' bedroom door.

"Yeah, Son. I'm still awake. What's up?" Nicholas said, from where he lie on his bed.

"Just wanted to tell you I'm home," Steve said.

"Okay. Good night, Steve." Nicholas turned over and closed his eyes.

Steve found he couldn't move and still stood in the doorway. "Dad?" he asked.

"What's wrong, Son?" Nicholas opened his eyes again.

"I just..." Steve sighed.

Nicholas sat up and gestured to Steve to come into the room. "Come sit down. If you want to talk, we can talk."

"I don't know if I do. It's just I've been having these dizzy spells and Evie left this letter on my car and there was this girl at the drag strip-"

"Slow down." Nicholas held up his hands. "Come sit down.

Steve sat on the edge of the bed. "Sorry. Just started pouring out," he said.

"It's fine. What did you say about dizzy spells?"

"I had them today. Earlier at work, then again tonight. I guess it's stress or something. I just sat for a few minutes and it passed."

"Okay. And what about Evie?"

"She left a letter on my car at the DX. I just read it right before I left Soda's house tonight. She said a lot that made sense, actually."

"Good. And what about a girl at the drag strip?"

"There was a girl standing next to me. I didn't even notice her at first because I was watching the cars. She came up and started talking to me," Steve said, looking down at the bed covers.

"And?" Nicholas asked, trying to catch Steve's eyes.

"I don't know. I didn't see her there, then next thing I know, her arm is around me. She was smiling and had this nice voice. I just froze. I couldn't say or do anything."

"All right. What did she say?"

"Asked me my name. Said I was cute. I just... I didn't want to be touched at all, so I took off to get away from her." Steve looked up at his dad, then looked away again, biting his lip.

"It's okay, Son."

"Is it? What kind of guy am I, Dad?"

"You have some bad memories in your head right now, Steve. And don't forget, I know you still love Evie. That could make it uncomfortable too."

"It wasn't just because of her. If that were all, I'd say I have a girlfriend and that'd be it. I couldn't say anything at all. I felt embarrassed with all these people around too." Steve shook his head. "I pulled away from her and ran to my car to smoke a cigarette. That didn't even help."

Nicholas laid a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Give yourself a break, Son."

"But, Dad, it reminded me of her...of Clara." Steve's voice got louder. "I didn't want to be touched. I didn't want her near me. But it wasn't that girl! It was her!"

"I know. I got that as soon as you told me. It's still okay." Nicholas squeezed Steve's shoulder, as his son finally met his eyes.

"Thanks, Dad. Would you- would you do something for me?"

"Of course."

Steve took a deep breath. "I want to try again with the counselor. Would you call for me?"

* * *

A sleeping Steve turned over in his bed, wrapping the comforter around himself. Behind his closed eyes, he saw Clara.

_"I was just watching you sleep."_

"No. Go away," Steve mumbled.

_"I'm here to watch over you."_

Steve turned over again and hugged the pillow close to him, burying his face in it, as he still heard Clara's voice in his dream.

_"You know I'd never hurt you."_

"Please stop. Leave me alone," Steve whimpered.

_Nicholas appeared. "What is going on here? Clara, get away from him!"_

Steve threw the covers off of himself, fighting the nightmare, then another voice spoke.

_"Clara killed herself a couple of days ago..."_

Steve gripped the bed sheets, as he heard his dad's voice once more.

_"Let's not talk about it anymore."_

Behind his still closed eyes, Steve saw his eleven-year-old self in bed late at night.

_He opened his eyes and turned to see Clara next to him again. Steve looked closer and saw that she was dead._

Steve's eyes shot open, as he bolted up and looked next to him. "It was just a nightmare," he whispered, as he ran a hand through his hair and tried to catch his breath.

Steve lie back down, pulling the covers over himself, as he stared at the ceiling. "I hate dreaming," he said, as he let his eyes drift closed, hoping for some more peaceful rest to claim him.

* * *

"I asked my dad to call and make me another appointment with the counselor, man," Steve said.

"Good. I'm glad to hear that," Soda said, letting the front door close behind him.

Soda opened the refrigerator and grabbed a drink, then also tossed one to Steve.

"I hope I feel better about it this time," Steve said, as he sat on the couch and popped open the can.

"I think you will. You've talked about a lot of things since you saw her that first time, and it sounded like you know why you didn't stay that time," Soda said, as he sat beside Steve and took a sip of his drink.

Steve sipped his drink and glanced at Soda. "Something has to give here. I can't seem to win for losin' lately."

* * *

Pony hadn't been home long and was reading a novel he had to finish before school started in the fall. He heard Soda and Steve's voices through his open bedroom door. Still trying to focus on the words on the page, Pony caught snippets of the conversation and realized Steve probably wouldn't want anyone besides Soda to hear this. They must not realize anyone else was here.

Pony closed the book and walked over to the open door. He closed it quietly, hearing the soft click, before he went back to reading.

"You're going to get better, Stevie. You know that, right?" Soda asked.

"Yeah. I guess. It's just a lot. I asked my dad to call to make the appointment for me after I told him about that girl at the drag strip," Steve said.

"What'd he say about that?"

"Just that I have some bad memories in my head, and I should give myself a break. I guess he's right." Steve shrugged.

"He is totally right."

"At first, when he told me it was okay, I thought he didn't understand what it made me think of...or who. That it wasn't really about that girl at all, you know?"

"I'm sure he got it easily. I did."

"Yeah, he did. I started to freak out, and he just told me it was still okay. Somehow, that helped."

"You read Evie's letter, right?" Soda asked and Steve nodded. "What'd she say?"

"A lot of stuff. But mostly, I think she just wants me to talk and not do anything crazy, trying to deal." Steve finished his drink, then pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

"She really cares about you, man. If she didn't, she wouldn't write anything like that," Soda pointed out, setting his drink on the coffee table.

"Yeah, I know. I'm just not ready to talk to her again yet. I'm going to have a smoke. I'll be back." Steve stepped out onto the back porch.

Soda turned on the TV and was looking at the screen when Pony appeared next to him. "Oh, hey, Pone. Didn't know you were home," he said.

"I was just in our room reading," Pony said.

"You know, Pony. I was thinking."

"Oh no! Call the press!" Pony joked, as he grinned at his brother.

"Hush, smart ass!" Soda chuckled. Really, we haven't gone out and just hung out in a while, just the two of us. Want to go somewhere tonight?"

"Sure!" Pony sat down next to Soda. "I was thinking the same thing. Where should we go?"

"Not sure. We'll figure it out later." Soda shrugged.

"Well, movies are out. I know you can't sit still," Pony said.

"Hey!" Soda laughed and picked up a pillow, swinging it at Pony.

"But it's true!" Pony laughed too.


	25. Chapter 25

"Where you been, Son?" Nicholas asked, when he saw Steve come into the living room.

"Hanging out with TwoBit. Hey, what did you cook?" Steve wondered. "I smell something."

"Oh! It's pizza. I ordered it earlier. Have a slice. Box is on the table."

Steve grabbed a slice of pizza and settled next to his dad. "What are you watching?" he asked.

"The news was just on. They were talking about some family dispute on the other side of town. Woman took off after a big fight."

"Hmm." Steve took another bite of pizza, realizing it no longer tasted right.

"Sounded pretty crazy. Anyway, Son, can I talk to you about something?" Nicholas asked, turning off the TV.

"Sure, Dad."

"I've been thinking a lot, and well, I realized something."

"I hope this isn't about what I think it is because I can't do it right now," Steve said, feeling a wave of nausea, as he stood and threw the last of his slice of pizza in the trash.

"Are you feeling sick?"

"A little, but that's not what I mean. I just mean I don't want to talk about anything to do with her or that right now, okay?"

"All right. I guess I'll tell you later then. I did a lot of thinking last night. Don't worry though. It's nothing bad."

Steve lowered himself into a chair and closed his eyes for a moment.

_Clara stood in front of Steve. "I'll tell your dad all about last night," she said._

Steve opened his eyes and shook his head, trying to focus on his dad.

"What's wrong?" Nicholas asked, standing up and drawing closer.

_Clara lie next to Steve, and he felt her hands touching him. "How dare you say such a thing!" she said._

"Oh my gosh. Please stop," Steve whispered. "Nothing, Dad. I just-"

_Steve sat on his bed crying, Nicholas trying to comfort him. "She's crazy. Don't worry. It's over," his dad said._

"Steve, what is it?" Nicholas asked.

"Nothing! I just have too much in my head," Steve said, as he stood up and felt himself shake.

"Okay. Is it-"

"Yes! Of course it is! Isn't it always?" Steve yelled.

"All right, Son. It's okay. Just calm down."

"Dad, you don't get it! But I know you can't. This is more than memories. It feels real!"

"I know. You've told me," Nicholas gently took Steve's arm and guided him to sit down.

"I thought my memories were strong before, and they were, but this that's been happening? It's something else. To say I'm reliving what she did to me isn't even enough."

Nicholas rubbed Steve's back, feeling the tension in his son. "Steve, I hate seeing you hurt like this. I hope you know I'd do anything to help."

"I'm not sure how much you can do. Just weeks ago, I was remembering things, but I don't know. It wasn't like this. This is like a time machine. I don't just feel like I'm hearing Clara and feeling her touch me. I really am. And it keeps happening!" Steve felt tears prick his eyes. "I hope that would stop after we talked so much."

"We're going to get a handle on this, Steve."

"I'm sorry, Dad. I just can't be here right now." Steve could feel his heart pound.

"Where are you going?"

"Not sure. I just can't talk right now."

"We don't have to talk. You can stay, and we can-" Nicholas started to say, as he reached for Steve's arm.

"No! I can't be here. I need to go." Steve pulled away from his dad and quickly walked toward the front door.

"Be careful please, Son!" Nicholas yelled after him, as he heard the door slam and collapsed onto the couch, his head in his hands.

* * *

"Those girls sure were ogling us, weren't they?" Soda asked Pony, as they stepped inside the house.

"Mostly you, Sodapop. You're the one they all like so much," Pony said.

"Aw, come on, we're brothers." Soda smiled and slung an arm over Pony's shoulders. "You're starting to look a lot like me now. The ladies notice." He winked at Pony, who rolled his eyes.

"Hey, what happened to Steve?" Pony asked, looking toward the couch.

The smile slipped from Soda's face, as he saw Steve fast asleep on their couch. He had a bruise on his cheek and a swollen lip. Soda also saw that his hands looked rather swollen. A small bag of nearly melted ice lay next to it.

Soda went to Darry's room and found his older brother looking through bills and punching numbers into a calculator.

"Darry, did Steve get in a fight or something?"

"Or something," Darry said, shrugging. "He didn't tell me a lot. Just said something about Buck's. I guess he went there. It looks like somebody hit him, and he hit something with that hand. I made him ice it since it looks a little busted up."

"I wonder what happened. He usually doesn't hang out at Buck's." Soda settled next to his brother.

"Don't worry too much, little buddy. Steve's had worse. We all have."

"You know that's not really what I'm worried about, Dar. I've never seen Steve so up and down."

"He's hanging in there though. His dad called earlier to see if he was here." Darry put the bills and calculator into his nightstand drawer.

"Did he say anything?"

"Just that he was worried, and Steve left earlier, saying he couldn't be home right now."

Soda sighed, as he stretched his arms. "I'm going to get ready for bed. Me and Pony had fun tonight. It was nice to hang out just the two of us."

"I'm sure, little buddy. Good night," Darry said, as Soda left, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Soda lie awake, as Pony slept. He was too curious about Steve to do anything besides doze off once in a while. Deciding to give up for now, Soda stood and made his way to the living room. He noticed Steve wasn't on the couch and peaked into the kitchen.

"Hey, I didn't know you were up," Soda said, as he filled a glass with water and took the chair next to his friend.

"Yeah. Just sitting here. I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep," Steve said, yawning.

"So what happened tonight?" Soda eyed Steve's swollen hand.

"Some jerk at Buck's made a smart ass comment. I don't even remember why now. I punched him right in the face."

"Since when do you hang out at Buck's place?"

"I don't. It's just I know no one there would know me. I had a couple of beers, but I swear that was all. Anyway, that guy got in a couple of good hits himself before Buck pulled us apart." Steve shook his head. "So I turned right around and punched the wall. That's how this happened." He held up his swollen and sore hand.

"Ouch."

"I just- I couldn't be around my dad tonight."

"Did he do something?" Soda wondered, taking a swallow of water.

"No. I just had to get away."

"Nothing happened at all?" Soda stared at Steve.

"All right. It was all in my head though. These damn memories got too real again. And my dad... he's part of them sometimes. I didn't tell him that, but I did tell him it's like a time machine gets me. But even that isn't enough to explain it." Steve sighed, rubbing his sore hand.

"So you just left after... Well, after it stopped, I guess?"

"Yeah. Man, it's like I'm fighting something that's alive. My dad was talking to me, and at least this time, I knew he was there. I wasn't totally out of it."

"That has to be a good sign. I know when I saw you get like that, you really were somewhere else for a minute there."

"But then, I just got too frustrated and had to get away. After I got here, Darry didn't ask too many questions. He tossed me a blanket and a pillow and practically demanded I put ice on my hand and this bruise on my face."

Soda chuckled. "I'm not surprised."

"I told him I was fine, but he nearly threw the ice pack at me."

"Yeah, Darry wasn't going to buy that. So you feel any better after you punched the guy?"

"A little." Steve shrugged. "At least after I punched the wall, I just thought of that pain and not anything else!" He cracked a grin.

"Well, I'm glad he didn't knock you out. I don't have time to break in a new best friend." Soda smiled at Steve then yawned, as he got to his feet. "I think I'm going to head back to bed."

"Night, man."

"Night."

* * *

"Dad, have you seen my DX shirt?" Steve yelled from his bedroom.

Nicholas grabbed the shirt from the pile of laundry on top of the dryer and went down the hall. "It's right here," he said, as he threw the shirt to his son. "When did you get home?"

"Just a few minutes ago. Thanks, Dad," Steve said, as he slipped the shirt on, then started buttoning it up.

"What happened to you?" Nicholas asked, seeing Steve's face.

"Just got in a little scuffle when I was out last night. No big deal. See you later, Dad." Steve hurried out of the house.

Nicholas turned his gaze to the telephone. He knew it was early, but he picked up the receiver and dialed. Maybe someone would be at Laura Avery's office.

* * *

"What are you doing here, Dad?" Steve asked, as Nicholas walked past the gas pumps and stopped near where Steve was sitting on the sidewalk near the DX station's door.

"Just came to see you for a minute. You on your break?" Nicholas asked.

"Yeah. I got another few minutes or so."

"I wanted to tell you I called Laura Avery's office earlier this morning. Turns out there was a cancellation, and she can see you tomorrow afternoon."

"Okay." Steve nodded and stood up.

"You going to stay and talk to her this time?" Nicholas met Steve's eyes with his own.

"I'll do my best. I mean, maybe it'll be better this time. See you at home." Steve opened the door to the DX. "And, Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for calling. I mean it." Steve went inside, letting the door close behind him.

Nicholas looked towards the parking lot and saw Darry's truck. He waved, and Darry waved back, as he came to a stop.

"Hey, have you seen Soda?" Darry called, after rolling down the window.

"No, I was just out here talking to Steve though," Nicholas said, walking over.

Darry glanced at his watch. "I am a little early. Soda asked me to come eat with him today." He looked at Nicholas. "You know, actually I've been wanting to talk to you anyway."

"Oh? What about?" Nicholas raised his eyebrows.

"Get in." Darry waited, while Nicholas climbed into the passenger seat. "I know you and me aren't close or anything like that, but you've known my family for a long time."

"Sure."

"And you know my parents really cared about Steve too."

"I do know that. They were always good to him. Where are you going with this?" Nicholas eyed Darry.

"So I'm not sure how to say this, but I know what Clara did. I know how she hurt Steve."

"Okay? I mean, that doesn't shock me. Soda and Steve are so close, and you're Soda's brother and his guardian so-"

"Hang on. I'm not there yet." Darry turned to meet Nicholas' eyes. "I'm not trying to pry or anything, but I'm sure you know how protective I am over my brothers. And Soda seems to remember quite a bit about Clara and that time in his childhood. He's been upset about it and real worried about Steve. My question is did my parents know about what happened? I overheard you talking to my dad once. You were kind of drunk, but you were talking about her."

Nicholas bit his lip and looked down at the floorboard. "What did you hear?"

"Enough to know she had died and how." Darry shrugged. "I was just a kid myself. I never said a thing about it to anyone. I didn't even tell Sodapop. Not until recently anyway."

"I mean, I don't know if he told your mom, but yeah, I told your dad. He was easy to talk to, you know? Well, that, and I remember things just kind of spilling out cause I was drinking a lot then. I remember telling him about her and what she did. I know I didn't say a whole lot, and maybe I shouldn't have said anything at all. I was just so overwhelmed and I didn't want Steve to-"

"Slow down." Darry held up a hand. "It's fine. I'm not saying it was wrong or anything like that. I just really wanted to know. That's all."

"Oh." Nicholas blinked. "I think part of me was wanting someone else to keep an eye on my son after everything cause I knew I hadn't done the best job."

"I bet you did the best you could with whatever you had at the time."

"Thanks. But I know I screwed up a lot. You can tell me. I'm sure you've heard."

"Well, you can bet your life that if anyone would've looked out for Steve, it was my parents."

They heard a knock on the window and looked over to see Soda standing next to the truck.

"Hey, here's my goofy kid brother now!" Darry said, smiling, as Nicholas opened the door and slid out of the truck.

"Since when do you two hang out?" Soda asked, raising an eyebrow and looking at his brother, then at Nicholas.

"We were just talking a bit, Sodapop. But you got a good brother here," Nicholas said, as he clapped Soda on the shoulder, then walked in the direction of the grocery store.

Soda turned back to Darry and hopped into the truck. "What was that about?" he asked.

"I'll tell you later, little buddy. So what do we want to eat?" Darry asked, as he drove the truck away from the DX.

* * *

Steve stared at the fish tank in the waiting room. He was nervous, fidgeting in his chair, as Nicholas glanced over at him.

"You'll do fine, Son," Nicholas encouraged, as he reached over and squeezed Steve's arm.

A door opened, and Laura Avery appeared. "Glad to see you, Steve," she said. "Come with me, and we'll talk."

Steve looked at Nicholas once more, as he took a deep breath and stood up.

"I'll be right here," Nicholas said.

Steve turned to Laura. "Okay," he said, following her into the next room.


	26. Chapter 26

Steve leaned his head back against the car seat, after rolling down the window. He watched the passing cars and scenery, as Nicholas drove them home.

"You're being real quiet. How'd it go?" Nicholas asked, glancing over at Steve.

"All right, I think," Steve said.

"So this is something you want to keep doing?"

"Yeah, looks like it. She's real nice. That does help. And she doesn't push or anything. I even told her why I left last time. She seemed to get it."

"That's good."

"I mean, I told her about Clara and what happened, but only a little. I mostly talked about other things. Then, worked up to talking about the last few weeks, you know?"

"Sounds like a good start," Nicholas said, as he pulled his car into the driveway.

"I know it's not really anything to do with all this now, but I told her about Johnny and Dallas dying and everything just before. She'd read about Ponyboy in the paper, so it wasn't even so hard to explain."

"Anything that you had a hard time with could be affecting you now. That was tough for you. It was tough for you and Sodapop and all of your friends."

"I think I'm going to go inside and take a nap. That was still pretty overwhelming," Steve said, as he got out of the car.

"Okay. Get some rest. I'm going to go back to work for a couple hours."

"Hey, Steve!" Soda yelled.

Steve appeared in the hallway, rubbing his eyes. "What, man? I was trying to sleep in there," he said, yawning.

"Oh. Sorry. I just- Well, I wondered how things went today," Soda said. "Was it better this time?"

"Yeah, it was okay. Definitely better. I stayed and talked. Kind of wore me out. I've still been up a lot at night too." Steve sat down in the kitchen.

"Still having nightmares?" Soda sat next to Steve.

Steve sighed. "Yeah. Not real sure what to do about that. I did mention it today, but didn't get real far."

"Remember when Pony had those nightmares? The doctor said stay busy, so he wouldn't have the energy to dream at night."

"Might be different, man. This ain't just my imagination."

"Still worth a shot." Soda shrugged. "Can you remember them?"

"More than I want to. They're like even more twisted versions of the memories already burned into my damn brain. Like it ain't messed up enough, right?"

"Let's go out and play football or something. Burn up some energy. Never know. It could help."

"I've really gotten kind of used to it. They don't freak me out so much now."

"Still. Come on. It couldn't hurt."

"Hey, Darry! Catch!" Soda yelled, throwing the football to his older brother, who was just getting out of his truck.

"Woah, little buddy!" Darry said, as he caught the ball and tossed it back to Soda.

"Geez, Sodapop! Were you trying to run me to death out there, man?" Steve asked, sweating and breathing hard.

Soda laughed. "Something like that."

"What were you guys doing?" Darry asked.

"Just tossing the ball around at the park," Soda said, the ball still in his hands.

"You're funny, buddy. You didn't throw it to me even once! I had to run every time to get to it. You were throwing it all over the place!"

"That was kind of the idea," Soda said. "Told you we were going to burn up some energy."

"So that's why you'd grab the ball from me and run away?" Steve chuckled. "You're worse than a kid, making me chase after you."

"Don't tell me you're surprised, Steve! This one here" Darry gestured to Soda. "won't ever grow up." He grinned.

"Nah, I'm not surprised. Just hot and thirsty," Steve said, as he went inside.

Darry slung his arm around Soda's shoulders, pulling him into a headlock and taking the football from his hands.

Soda struggled and laughed. "Hey, no need to remind me you were a real football player, Dar," he said.

"Don't you forget it, little buddy." Darry let go and ruffled Soda's hair. "Looks like you two had fun."

"Yeah." Soda looked away from Darry and stared ahead for a few moments.

Darry waved his hand in front of Soda's face. "Earth to Sodapop!"

Soda turned his head to look at him. "Huh?" he asked.

"What's going on in your head?"

"Oh! Nothing. Just...thinking too much."

"You sure?" Darry narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah, Dar." Soda shot him a grin.

Nicholas kneeled next to Rose's grave stone. "Sorry I haven't been here in a while, sweetheart. I miss you so much."

He looked away and saw the fountain nearby, the sunlight reflecting off the water. Nicholas closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them to stare at the stone once more.

"Please watch over our son," Nicholas said. "I figure I don't need to tell you anything that's going on. I'm sure you already know."

Nicholas stared at a spot in the grass, feeling the sun's heat on him. "He's sure going through a lot. I wish I could fix it. But all I can do is be there and hope it's enough. I'll be back soon, sweetie."

Nicholas leaned forward and placed a kiss on the grave stone, before standing. "I still love you, and Steve does too."

"Hi, Evie. It's Steve. I wanted to see if you wanted to talk," Steve said into the receiver.

He listened for a few moments, before cracking a grin. "Yeah, I'll be over in a few minutes. See you then," he said, then hung up the phone.

"Was that Evie? What'd she say, Son?" Nicholas asked, coming out of his bedroom.

"That we can talk. I really- I don't know. I want to apologize to her," Steve said.

"She's been real understanding, it seems. Go on and talk to her."

"Hi, Steve," Evie said, as she saw him walking into the frontyard.

Steve sat down next to her in the grass "Why are you sitting out here?" he asked.

"Just wanted to, and I was waiting for you." Evie grinned at him.

"Evie, I'm sorry for the things I said to you. For pushing you away like that." Steve met Evie's eyes.

"I'm not going to say you didn't hurt me cause you really did." Evie stared back at Steve. "But if that's how you feel, I guess I can't blame you."

Steve sighed. "I just can't be to you what I want to be right now. And I couldn't go on being with you, like that's okay."

Evie felt tears in her eyes when she spoke again. "I think I understand. So what's been happening lately? Did you read my letter?"

"I did. And I get what you were saying, and I agree. Actually, my dad and I talked one night. We really talked. I think that was a start for me. All the stuff from when I was a kid just spilled out. Everything I never got to say, I did then."

"Oh, Steve. I know you needed that. I'm glad."

"I've been real scared, Evie. And the last day I talked to you, I was feeling so damn bad about myself, and I didn't want you to see that."

Evie touched Steve's arm. "There's nothing for you to feel bad about at all. It's all right to hurt, sweetie."

"It's not just that. It's like guilt trying to strangle me. My dad and Soda have told me over and over that what happened with Clara..." Steve felt his eyes sting with tears. "That what she did to me wasn't my fault, but that feeling hasn't gone away."

"They keep telling you that because they love you so much, and they're right," Evie said softly.

Steve closed his eyes, his voice cracking and a few tears falling. "I've felt like I should be ashamed, so I couldn't let you try to help. Not you or the counselor or anyone. But my dad...he wasn't backing down at all, not after I left that appointment and drank and all."

Evie reached over and wiped a tear from Steve's face, still holding back her own. She kept her hand on his cheek. "I'm glad you let him in. You both need that, I think. So how have you been since you guys talked?"

Steve shrugged and wiped his eyes. "Sometimes better. Sometimes not. Memories still get me. But I went back to see Laura, the counselor. I talked to her that time. I want to keep going."

Evie rubbed Steve's cheek, then let her hand rest on his arm. "Looks like you have little bit of a bruise on your face. What happened?"

"One night, I got in a fight. It wasn't a big deal. It was at Buck's place. Guy was smarting off and pretty drunk. I'd had a couple of beers."

"Aw, Steve." Evie sighed.

"It was no big deal, I swear. And I think I hit the wall harder than we hit each other. I busted my hand up a bit. It's still been kind of sore." Steve glanced at the hand he was talking about.

Evie put her hand over his. "You have to be careful. Something happen before you went there? That isn't where you usually go."

"Just memories messing up my head, and I wanted to be somewhere no one knew me. That's all." Steve shook his head. "Then, I ended up on Soda's couch. So much for that idea, huh?" He grinned.

"No matter what, you always end up back where you belong, don't you? There's no pushing any of us away. I think that's because, deep down in your heart, you need that love, and you still want it. No matter what any of those feelings you have say, you still come back to the truth about your life and about yourself." Evie smiled. "That's why you've been able to talk to your dad about everything. You know that, even when you were a kid, he cared. And it sounds like he really is here for you now."

"Yeah, he just didn't know how to handle things when I was a kid. You know something though? I think I get that now. I really understand. That's a real big deal for me too."

"You should tell him that."

"I want to tell you something too. What you said in your letter? It isn't you or our relationship, Evie. You didn't hurt me. You didn't do any of this. It was all always here, waiting for me to face it." Steve saw tears fall down Evie's cheeks.

"Thank you for telling me that." Evie pulled Steve close to her, wrapping him in an embrace.

Steve hugged her back. "Thank you for listening to me."

"What does this mean for us, Steve?" Evie asked, her head resting on his shoulder.

"I'm not sure. I think-" Steve sighed, holding her tighter. "I think I want to keep working on things in my head before we're together again. But that's just because I'm still kind of a mess, and I don't want to end up hurting you. Can you give me time?"

Evie pulled away and looked at Steve. "Yeah, I can. I can do that." She put her hand on Steve's chest, feeling his heart beat. "Just remember the truth you need about everything and about yourself is all right here."

"Are you okay, Son?" Nicholas asked.

"I don't know," Steve said, as he sat up and ran a hand through his hair. "I guess."

"What happened with Evie?" Nicholas sat down beside Steve.

"We just talked. That's all. We're not really back together though. Not yet anyway. I want to be, but Dad, I just can't."

"You're going through a lot. You just need time."

"That's pretty much what I told her, but it was good to talk anyway, you know?"

"Steve, can I tell you something I've been thinking about?"

"I guess so." Steve shrugged.

"It's just about you and me, really. Not anything else." Nicholas shifted, glancing at Steve, then looking away.

"Okay. Just spit it out, Dad. With all the stuff we've talked about lately, I don't think anything is off limits anymore."

"And it never should've been." Nicholas took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "I know I've said I'm sorry so much. For everything. Including for causing you to bottle up all the pain and deal with it alone. But I also feel like I must've added to the shame you told me you feel now because I didn't let you talk back right after Clara left."

"We've been through all this, Dad. It's okay."

"No. No, it's not." Nicholas shook his head. "I may as well have told you that there was something for you to feel guilty about. That was never the message I wanted to send. I never meant to let you keep thinking you did anything wrong or that anything is wrong with you. I reinforced those feelings in you when we didn't talk, and I tried to act like nothing happened. If I'd known what I was doing to you-"

"Dad. Stop it." Steve grabbed both of Nicholas' shoulders and stared right into his eyes.

"Can you forgive me, Son?" Nicholas' voice cracked.

"Yes. I can and I do! But please stop. Remember all the things you said to me the night I told you everything?" Steve let go of Nicholas.

"Yeah. I do." Nicholas nodded.

Steve thought back to that night, bringing to mind some of his dad's words that he had hoped would etch themselves into his memory.

"Please remember Clara was the one here who did wrong. You were a scared kid, and that's it. She hurt and manipulated you. If it'll make it easier, you can even blame me, but please don't blame yourself anymore."

"So please stop blaming yourself. Clara manipulated you too. And I think I get it now. I mean why you wanted to just forget."

"You do?" Nicholas raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. It hurts. It's hurt, so you wanted to forget, and you wanted me to forget. I know that now cause this pain I have still is what I felt then, and I know you were hurting bad too."

"Thank you, Steve. For being able to think about it like that. God knows you shouldn't have to."

Steve thought for another moment, memories rushing back.

"There's nothing at all that was your fault, and you don't deserve any of this pain."

"You don't deserve any of this pain either. That's what you told me." Steve gripped his dad's shoulder, letting another memory of his words wash over his heart and mind.

"Son, I loved your mother so much, and she loved you. Clara was nothing like her. There was no love there, or she never could've abused you. I trusted her, and you did too. She's the one who betrayed that. And you were always the most important to me, no matter what I thought she and I had."

"Clara betrayed you too, Dad. The second she even thought about touching me."

Nicholas closed his eyes tightly, willing the tears to go away. He reached out and wrapped his arms around Steve. "You did hear me that night," he said.

Steve held onto his dad, burying his face in his shoulder and fighting tears.

"Just let us help, Son. Let us be there for you. Let me be what I should've been back then. I know I can never make it up to you, but please let me try to help now."

"I think I'm going to be okay," Steve said. "You will too," he added in a whisper.


	27. Chapter 27

"So there's a name for this?" Steve asked.

"Absolutely. It sounds like you're experiencing what we call flashbacks," Laura said, holding a notepad in her lap.

"So I'm not just crazy..." Steve shook his head.

"You're not crazy at all, Steve." Laura leaned forward, looking into Steve's eyes. "You had a traumatic experience. It's your brain's way of processing through those memories. When the flashbacks happen, it's re-experiencing of the abuse. When that happens, your mind and body react to that stress, much like you did as a kid."

"But why now? It's been so long."

"True." Laura nodded. "But everyone experiences trauma differently, and there's no definite timeline for it."

"Is it because I never really talked about what happened then?" Steve looked away from Laura, staring out the window.

"That didn't help you emotionally, but flashbacks might have happened, even if you did talk about it then." Laura jotted something down in her notes.

"The first time a flashback happened, my dad said it was his fault. That those memories were so strong because he didn't let me talk."

"Your reaction to those memories and your emotions may be different than if you'd been able to talk through everything as a kid." Laura looked back up at Steve. "But the flashbacks aren't his fault. How are you and your dad now?"

"Better." Steve smiled. "We've been talking a lot. He's trying so hard. I think we both understand each other now."

"That's good to hear. You need that support." Laura smiled back.

"I still...I still have these nightmares, and they're so real. And when I get too stressed, I have dizzy spells. At least I think it's from stress."

"The nightmares are a lot like the flashbacks. They're a manifestation of re-experiencing. Even though things obviously can show up differently in dreams. Your body has been under a lot of emotional stress. And even physical stress because of your reaction to the flashbacks and your feelings. That's one reason you've had panic attacks too. There's a lot of anxiety linked to processing and accepting a traumatic experience. It's difficult for your mind and body to rest."

"Will any of this ever stop?" Steve asked, as he looked at the floor, then back up at Laura.

"In time. Yes. Flashbacks don't go on forever. And you're doing a lot now to handle the emotional and physical stress of what you experienced. Eventually, you'll feel better. You'll sleep better. You won't be so overwhelmed, and you won't always panic." Laura wrote something else down, before she closed the notepad and set it on her desk. "Try not to get discouraged when you have some ups and downs too. Even once you do start to feel better and cope better, you might still have tough days. Recovery from any type of trauma is a process, and unfortunately, that process isn't a straight line."

"I guess that makes sense. I think I've even seen that already myself." Steve sighed. "So what do I do now? I mean, about the flashbacks?"

"The most important thing to do first when those happen is to remind yourself that memory is in the past. Remember that, yes, you were a victim of sexual abuse-" Laura paused for a moment when she saw Steve flinch at the term.

He looked away, staring out the window once more and wrapping his arms around himself.

Laura continued, her voice softer. "But it's not happening in that moment. You have to focus on staying grounded in the present."

"How do I do that? It ain't like I don't already know it's not happening now, though it sure has felt like it." Steve took a deep breath and dropped his arms to his sides, as he let his own eyes look into Laura's. "How do I calm down, and stop feeling like I'm back there with Clara?"

"Why are you baking cookies, man?" Steve asked, as he came into the Curtis' kitchen and saw the cookies in the oven and Soda cleaning up the mess he had made. "That's not exactly your usual way to pass time."

Soda shrugged, as he put away the flour and sugar. "I found my mom's old recipe book in here, and it's just something to do." He put the mixing bowl and whisk in the sink. "I thought you'd be here sooner."

"Laura and I talked a little bit longer today," Steve said, as Soda opened the oven to look at the cookies.

"Oh. That help?"

"I think so. Kinda overwhelming, but she told me some things I think I can use." Steve paused, watching his friend. "Soda?"

"Huh?" Soda looked at Steve, blinking.

"Close the oven, man."

"Oh." Soda closed the oven and started flipping through his mom's recipe book.

"Soda?"

"Yeah?" He didn't look up from the book.

"Something on your mind?"

"No. Nothing." Soda closed the book and turned to pull an oven mitt from a drawer.

"All right. But you can tell me if there is."

"I know." Soda opened the oven, pulling out the tray of cookies and setting it on the stove.

"They look pretty good."

"These are the peanut butter and chocolate ones my mom used to make when I was a kid."

"I remember those, I think."

"Yeah, it was a long time ago, but I'm sure you ate them too."

"Probably. Your mom always let me eat everything she cooked." Steve grinned.

"She wouldn't have let you turn down food when you were over here, man." Soda poured milk into each of two glasses and handed one to Steve.

"She was always sweet." Steve took a swallow of milk. "The memory thing, it has a name."

"Huh?" Soda took a cookie from the tray and took a bite.

"What I called a memory attack. It's called a flashback. Laura told me that today," Steve said, as Soda handed him a cookie.

"Makes sense. Since it's like you flash back to the past. So what do you do about it?" Soda asked, before taking a bite of the cookie and a swallow of milk.

Steve took a bite of his cookie before speaking and nodded. "This is good, man. Well, I can't really stop it, but there are ways to not get stuck in it and not panic."

"Oh, yeah? Like how? It seems so strong after what I saw and how you talk about it."

"Laura said to focus on what or who is around me to try to keep my head in the present. Or, as she put it, stay grounded in the present. It's like I need to tell myself that what I remember isn't happening now because part of me thinks it is."

"So how do you tell yourself that in the middle of it?"

"Like she said, focus on whatever I can see or hear or even touch. Same thing might help if I still have panic attacks. Flashbacks aren't something I can stop, but I can learn how to handle them better."

Will it ever go away?" Soda asked, as he ate the last bite of his cookie.

Steve sighed. "Eventually. I mean, I wish I could make all of this stop, but there's no way. I just have to cope, and maybe soon, it won't be as hard." He finished eating his cookie and turned to look outside. "Talking about this makes me need some air."

"Let's go outside then." Soda opened the door and waited for Steve to follow him out to the porch, where they both sat down on the steps.

"Now that I saw all of this out loud, it seems depressing," Steve said, shaking his head.

"You can handle it. You've come this far, right?" Soda said.

"Laura told me I might have still had the flashbacks anyway, even if I'd been able to talk through everything when I was a kid, but I still can't help but wonder how different it would be now. I'm not blaming my dad that I have them. I just wonder if things might have been easier for both of us." Steve glanced at Soda, then at the ground.

"You just have to do what you can to make it easier now."

"You know, it seems so crazy to think about how no one knew what really happened, but me and my dad until I told you. That's a real long time for us to hang on to a secret. Especially one like this." Steve looked up, turning to Soda.

Soda raised his eyebrows. "But I thought your dad said-" He stopped himself, looking away from Steve and down at his lap, as he bit his lip.

"What?" Steve asked.

Soda shook his head. "Nothing."

"No. Tell me. You thought my dad said what?"

"I just thought..." Soda sighed. "I don't know what to say because I can't lie to you about something like this, and I feel like it isn't mine to tell you." He looked up at Steve again.

"What are you talking about? Just tell me, Sodapop."

"It isn't exactly true that no one else knew. I thought your dad would've told you this."

"Huh? Who knew? I didn't tell anybody before you, and my dad didn't even want to talk about that."

"But he told my dad, and I'm pretty sure my dad told my mom."

"How do you know that?" Steve narrowed his eyes.

"Darry overheard something back then right after Clara died. He never told me then, but he knew what happened to her."

"Overheard my dad talking to your dad?" Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah." Soda nodded. " Darry didn't hear anymore than that, but your dad did tell him that he told our dad about...well, about what Clara did."

"Oh." Steve blinked, shaking his head. "He didn't want me to talk about it, so why would he do that?"

"From what Darry said, he'd been drinking, and it sounds like it was because he felt so bad that he hadn't stopped her. Darry asked him about it one day when they were both at the DX because he remembered him talking to our dad about Clara and wondered if he had told him more." Soda watched Steve, gauging his reaction.

"But my dad wouldn't even let me talk about it. I'm not mad at him about that now, but..." Steve sighed.

"I'm sorry, buddy. I really thought you knew." Soda put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

"It's not your fault, Soda. And it isn't even a bad thing, really. It's just weird because I always believed no one else knew, and I was around your parents all the time."

"Know how I see it?" Soda waited for Steve to look at him. "It made me real upset to think that it was like you were dealing with everything all alone then. But maybe you weren't."

"TwoBit! Get away from there, man. You ain't supposed to be trying to pump gas!" Steve said.

"Aw, come on," TwoBit said, letting go of the nozzle, as a car stopped in front of the pump.

"I got it." Steve started to pump gas into the car. "You know, you don't work here."

"I know." TwoBit shrugged, grinning. "Just came to bug you."

"You've been doing that a lot more lately. Almost every time I'm here." Steve put the nozzle back in its cradle, and the driver waved, as he went inside the station.

"I guess so." TwoBit nodded.

"Why?"

"Seems like you need it."

"Need what? You being crazy?"

"Yep. Some cheering up."

"All right. I guess I can't argue with you there." Steve grinned.

"And it ain't like I got anything better to do, so TwoBit Mathews at your service." TwoBit raised his hand in a mock salute.

"Hey, Steve! Ready to go?" Soda yelled, as he came out of the station.

"Yep. Just let me go punch out, and I'll meet you in the parking lot!" Steve said.

Nicholas was just finishing up washing dishes when he heard a knock, and the front door eased open.

"Anybody home?" Soda asked, sticking his head inside.

"Just me, Sodapop," Nicholas said, as he dried his hands off with a towel.

"Oh. I thought Steve would be back by now. I guess I'll come back later." Soda slipped back outside, letting the door close.

Nicholas walked forward and opened the door again. "Soda, you don't have to. You can stay and wait if you want."

"Oh." Soda blinked. "I guess I didn't think of that." He followed Nicholas back inside.

"You okay? You usually just barge right in and make yourself at home." Nicholas sat down in a chair.

"Yeah." Soda nodded. "I'm fine." He grinned, as he also sat down.

"All right. I guess Steve must've taken a walk somewhere. I didn't see him, but his car was here when I got home."

"Yeah, he dropped me off a while ago."

"He seem okay to you?"

"I guess so." Soda shrugged. "He's sounded better lately. Not great, but definitely better than he was for a while."

"Yeah. That sure makes me feel a lot better too." Nicholas grinned. "Hey, want to watch some TV, instead of just sitting here? I'm really not very exciting. Steve should be back soon."

"Actually, I just remembered it's um..." Soda shook his head, searching for words, as he got to his feet. "it's my turn to cook dinner tonight. I better get back home."

"Okay. I'll tell Steve you were here." Nicholas watched Soda go toward the door.

"Just tell him I wanted to talk to him about something." Soda's eyes turned downward. "Or maybe it can wait. I don't know," he mumbled, as he turned away from Nicholas and opened the door.

Nicholas watched Soda walk down the porch steps and across the driveway, curious what was bothering his son's best friend.

Steve leaned down and touched Rose's grave stone. "Hey, Mom. Not sure why I've been coming here so much," he said.

Steve sat down in the grass. "Seems crazy to come here to talk to you. It isn't something I ever thought I'd do. But what can I say? A lot has changed lately."

He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. "Me and Dad are doing a lot better. Seems like we get each other now. I think he always had good intentions.

Steve felt a warm breeze, as he stared at Rose's name that was etched into the stone. "He's been as lost as I was. I think I still kind of am, but I'm finding my way. The difference is Dad's helping me now."

He glanced over at the fountain, remembering his talk with Soda out here that day. He stood up, looking back at the grave stone again. "I always thought Dad and me were so different, but it's really like we're just two sides of the same coin. All this time, and we didn't even know that. Sure is something, ain't it?"

A/N The information in Laura and Steve's conversation and Soda and Steve's conversation comes from a mix of personal experience (though in a way different context than what Steve has been through!) and a website on Trauma Recovery I found that was created by the Manitoba Trauma Information and Education Center.


	28. Chapter 28

"Hey, Son! Soda was here earlier. He wanted me to tell you he wanted to talk to you about something," Nicholas said from his spot in front of the stove, when he saw Steve come inside.

"He say what?" Steve asked.

"No." Nicholas shook his head. "He acted kind of funny though. Like he was nervous or something."

"Hmm. I'll go over and see him in a little while." Steve saw the pot of water on the stove that was beginning to bubble and another filled with sauce. "What are you making?"

"Thought I'd cook up some pasta and garlic bread." Nicholas sprinkled garlic salt on several slices of buttered bread and placed them in the oven.

"Sounds good. Before you finish up with that, can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Nicholas poured a box of pasta noodles into the now boiling water, then turned the burner down. "I'll let this cook, and we can talk."

"I just want to know something," Steve said, as he sat down, and Nicholas took the chair next to him.

"About what?" Nicholas leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

"What did you tell Mr. Curtis about Clara?"

Nicholas' eyes widened. "What do you mean?" He looked down at his hands, feeling his heart pound in his chest.

"I think you know what I mean, or you wouldn't be looking like that right now." Steve leaned his head to meet Nicholas' eyes with his own. "Dad, I'm not mad. I probably would've been not too long ago, but not now."

Nicholas took in a deep breath, glancing up at Steve. "I really meant to tell you, Steve. We just had so much other stuff to talk about, and until Darry mentioned how he heard me talking to his dad, I'd forgotten about it."

"It's okay. Soda and I were talking, and he mentioned something about it. He thought I knew."

"It was only a couple of times I talked about it, but yeah, Mr. Curtis knew what Clara did and how she hurt you. I would think he probably told his wife too."

"So why? I mean, you didn't want me to talk about her."

"It just sort of poured out. You know how often I drank then. And I guess I wanted them to look after you, you know? You spent a lot of time at their house. And I trusted them too. I'm sorry, Son. I should've told you sooner." Nicholas looked down at his hands once more.

Steve reached over and touched Nicholas' arm. "I get it."

"Once I did think about telling you, I was scared to bring it up. I don't want to mess up this..." Nicholas looked up at Steve. "What's the word I'm looking for?"

"Huh?"

"This between us. What is it?"

Steve smiled at him. "I think it's called peace, Dad."

"I was on the way to your house, but I see I found you!" Steve yelled, looking up at the top of the jungle gym in the park.

"What?" Soda looked down from the bar he was sitting on and saw Steve below. "Oh! Hi!"

Steve climbed up and sat on the bar next to Soda. "Why in the world are you up here?" he asked, cracking a grin. "Darry's right. You won't ever grow up."

"Nah, I guess not." Soda shrugged. "I just like the view."

"View?" Steve raised an eyebrow. "It's a park on the east side of Tulsa, man, not an ocean front!" He chuckled.

Soda smiled at him. "Yeah, and there's sure no ocean breeze. Not that I'd know what that's like anyway."

"My dad said you wanted to talk to me." Steve noticed Soda's smile falter.

"Never mind." Soda shook his head.

"Hey, what are you two doing up there?" a voice yelled.

Soda and Steve looked down and saw Pony.

"Just hanging out," Soda said, as he let himself fall back, wrapping his legs around the bar and hanging upside down.

"Darry sent me to look for you. Dinner's ready," Pony said, smiling up at Soda.

"All right. I'm coming down, Pony," Soda said, as he righted himself and started to climb down. "You want to come, Steve?"

"Thanks, buddy. But I'm going to get back home," Steve said, also climbing down. "My dad cooked and wants us to hang out together and eat tonight."

Soda's feet hit the ground. "Sounds good for you two. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Come on, you monkey. I'll race you home," Pony said to Soda, as he started running.

"Hey, you got a head start!" Soda yelled to Pony, as he waved to Steve and started running after his brother.

Steve and Nicholas both sat at the kitchen table with empty plates in front of them.

"That was good, Dad," Steve said, as Nicholas picked up both plates and put them in the sink.

"You ate quite a bit, Son," Nicholas said, sitting back down in his chair.

"Forgot how much I like pasta and garlic bread, I guess. It was nice to just sit and eat and talk about nothing, huh?" Steve smiled at his dad.

"Sure was. Hey, know what we should do?"

"What?"

"Play some rummy. You still remember how to play?"

"I think so."

Steve lay down a three of spades, followed by a four, five, and six of the same suit, before tossing a card into the discard pile to finish his turn.

Nicholas drew a card, then eyed all the cards they had both played so far. He glanced back at his own hand, then laid down a seven of spades. He tossed a card into the discard pile and waited for Steve to take his next turn.

Steve drew a card and kept it in his hand, searching for a play. Finding none, he chose one to discard. "I'm about to lose, just like I used to!" He laughed. "Aren't I?"

"Damn right you are!" Nicholas laughed too, as he drew an ace of hearts and laid it and a two down to play on Steve's three, four, and five of hearts. Seeing nowhere to play the last card in his hand, Nicholas discarded it.

"Aw, man!" Steve said, looking at the cards left in his hand and dropping them on the table for Nicholas to see.

Nicholas chuckled when he saw the ace, King, and Queen that Steve had still been holding. "Why didn't you get rid of those?"

"I don't know. I kept hoping I could use them. We don't even need to count up our scores. You won. Believe me, I don't want to know by how much when you've played so many more high cards than I did!"

"All right. I'll spare you. I won't tally up my score." Nicholas was still smiling, as he put all the cards back into one pile and began shuffling. "Not this time anyway. Want to go again?"

"Sure, Dad."

Steve lie in bed later that night, remembering the card game and how he and Nicholas had spent the evening just enjoying each other's company and relaxing. It was a welcome change from all the seriousness that had encapsulated their relationship lately. Steve truly appreciated their heart to hearts though, and he believed those revealing and healing conversations allowed the camaraderie they had shared tonight to be genuine. Their father and son relationship was no longer a prisoner to the past that neither of them had been able to escape.

There had been one moment tonight when Steve asked his dad for just a slice of time in which to talk about a heavier issue. It was something he felt Nicholas needed to know, but it somehow hadn't gotten discussed after his latest session with Laura. Knowing Nicholas had his mind and ever good intentioned spirit set on helping him, Steve figured his dad wouldn't mind a minor interruption in the card game.

Just after Nicholas had dealt the cards, Steve said he wanted to tell him something first, and he'd gone into more detail about what Laura had said about the flashbacks. He had already told his dad about the term that labeled his battle with the memories he still wanted to bury in a far away grave. At least the term gave a sort of logic to the resurrection of the echoing voice of Clara and the all-too-present cold touch of her hands.

Steve had shivered, as his dad listened, just thinking of the flashbacks that shot darts of terror into him each time the memories dared rise to life. Nicholas had reached out and touched Steve's arm with a hand of steadfast comfort. His son told him how Laura believed the flashbacks weren't a direct result of Nicholas preventing Steve from talking through the traumatic abuse. Steve caught the look on his dad's face at these words and thought he could see a twinkle of relief in his eyes.

Steve had gone on to say that there were ways Nicholas could help him now when the flashbacks happened. He said he had to focus on absorbing his present surroundings to draw his mind back to the current reality. Nicholas, eager to help, had asked exactly what he could do. Steve told his dad to stick close to him and talk to him. Nicholas could ask questions about what Steve sees or hears. He could remind him to touch something and focus on the feel of it.

Nicholas had nodded his head and told Steve he would do anything he could to make the flashbacks a less difficult obstacle to overcome. They had both picked up the cards they were dealt, then continued their game, slipping back into the relaxed night they'd started earlier.

Steve let his eyes drift shut. He had no idea at the time that he would wake up early the next morning and realize he had slept through the night, in spite of the dreams he would still be able to recall having. They would invade his subconscious, but somehow, the images wouldn't disturb Steve's much needed slumber.

Steve saw Soda approaching his house. This was nothing unusual. What Steve noticed as out of the ordinary was the fact that Soda carried a baseball and a bat.

He wasn't sure Soda even realized it himself, but Steve could see the pattern here. His best friend was trying to act like a kid again, and it seemed to be some sort of distraction. There was nothing wrong with it, and Soda seemed to have fun. Steve thought perhaps Soda was just trying to do anything he could to make him smile or draw his mind back to happier memories, while enjoying the present. That could be part of it, and Steve believed the rest lie with the reason Soda had stopped by his house the other day.

Steve opened the door. "Soda, what's with the ball and bat, man? You bring a team?" He grinned.

"Just thought we could play," Soda said, stopping in front of the porch.

"There's only two of us. How do we do that?" Steve stepped outside and walked down the porch steps.

"Like this!" Soda tossed the ball in the air and swung the bat.

Steve watched, as the bat made contact with the ball and sent it flying across the yard. "Nice," he said, looking toward where the ball had landed. "Okay. So what now? There's no one out there to catch that."

Soda broke into a smile. "I don't know. I guess I didn't really think about it. Just trying to have some fun." He fiddled with the bat he still held.

"Soda, what's with all the kid stuff lately? The running around like crazy with the football that day, the cookies and milk, the jungle gym, and now this?"

"I don't know." Soda shrugged. "Just feel like being goofy and acting like a kid, I guess. We're not technically adults yet, you know."

"All right. I get it. It is fun. I'll give you that. I'll go grab that ball." Steve started to walk across the yard. "My turn to take a swing at it," he said, as he turned to look at Soda.

Steve and Soda were both in Steve's room after deciding to come inside to cool off. They sat side by side, both leaning against the bed.

"Steve, can I tell you something?" Soda asked.

"Sure," Steve said.

"There's something I've wanted to talk to you about, and I keep putting it off."

"I noticed."

"I mentioned something I remember already, but I did it when we were kind of arguing. And I didn't really say what I wanted to then." Soda focused his eyes on the wall in front of him.

"Go on." Steve watched his friend, curious.

"And I was so worried about you, and I just wanted to yell anything I could think of, hoping you'd hear me."

"Soda, I've had a lot of really hard conversations lately. Believe me, I get some things are real hard to talk about, but just tell me."

Soda took a shaky breath, before he glanced over at Steve, then looked down at his lap. "What I said about you pulling me away from your house that night when Clara was looking at me. I'm- I'm talking about that."

"Oh." Steve's eyes widened. "I sure never would've thought you'd remember that, let alone pick up on it now, even after I told you about what happened."

"Something about it just stuck, I guess. But I wanted to tell you I'm glad you had my back and that- that I'm glad you could come with me and get away from her even for a night." Soda finally turned to look at Steve and saw his eyes swell with tears. "I wasn't trying to upset you. You've been upset enough, man."

"No. No, it's okay." Steve shook his head, then touched Soda's shoulder. "Just remembering that and how I was so quick to catch on to the way she looked at you and talked to you..." He stopped, blinking away the tears.

"I'm sorry. We don't have to talk about it anymore if it's too hard. I said what I wanted to say."

"It's okay. I can, and I want to." Steve took a deep breath. "It reminded me of her eyes when she looked at me, and what she said to you was so much like what she'd say to me. I obviously don't know if she would've..." He closed his eyes for a moment. "But I wasn't wanting to find out."

"I'm so damn sorry you had to go through any of that." Soda felt tears begin to fall down his cheeks. "I was right there, and I couldn't do a thing about it."

Steve reached for Soda, wrapping his arms around him. "You've done so much, buddy. I couldn't have told anyone but you the truth when I first started having a hard time." He held onto his friend and let his own tears fall.

Soda rested his head on Steve's shoulder, as he returned the embrace. "I'm sorry things got so hard for you, but it means a lot that you trusted me enough to tell me. I know it ain't going to go away or get easier overnight, so don't forget you can still talk to me."

"I know. Thank you for being honest when you first thought I should talk to someone. You knew I wouldn't take that well, so it took some guts to say it." Steve pulled away, a hand still resting on Soda's shoulder. "I do think talking to Laura is helping me, so you were right."


	29. Chapter 29

"She'd always tell me I was a good kid and that I was sweet," Steve said. "She liked to kiss me on my head or my cheek. I always tried to pull away, especially after... Well, after she started showing up in my room at night."

"You mean after you started sexually abusing you?" Laura asked.

"Yeah." Steve nodded, keeping his voice quiet. "When she would start touching me in my bed, she'd get so close. I would close my eyes and try to pretend nothing was happening."

Laura watched Steve, just listening.

"Her hands were always so cold. I remember shivering." Steve shook his head. "I hated when she'd touch me like that, but I also hated the kisses and her calling me Stevie any time. Only people close to me ever call me that."

"She created the appearance of harmless physical affection to stop any suspicions others could've had, and in the context of the abuse, it confused you. It made you feel even more conflicted."

Steve squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his head. "Sure did," he said, opening his eyes again. "I hate remembering that, but one of the worst things is the time I said something to my dad about wishing Clara would go back to her own house. That night, she was angry, and..." Steve turned his head to look outside, away from Laura's steady gaze. "And I never said anything like that again."

"When you refer to 'that night,' do you mean when she came into your room and sexually abused you?"

"Yeah." Steve spoke in a whisper, still staring out the window at the bright afternoon sun.

"Do you need to stop, Steve?" Laura tilted her head and studied him, seeing his shaking hands.

"No. I-I want to keep going." Steve swallowed, trying to steady himself.

"Okay."

"One time, Clara threatened to tell my dad what was happening. I mean, about the abuse. I didn't want her to do that."

"Why is that?" Laura kept her voice soft.

"I didn't want my dad to be mad or blame me."

"Now, do you think he would've been angry at you or blamed you?"

"No. Not anymore. I guess he would've only been mad at her. When he did find out that night I told you about, he definitely blamed her. Looking back, I can see that now."

"Good. But it was different as a kid, right?"

"Yeah. I felt bad. Really, I still do. I'd tell her to please stop and go away. I'd promise I wouldn't tell anyone. That didn't work." Steve took a deep breath, looking down at his lap.

"Did you think you were supposed to be able to stop her abuse?"

Steve shrugged. "I guess so. I'd get so scared at night, and I'd always hope she wouldn't come back. Thinking about that now makes me wonder what would've happened if I'd just decided to tell my dad."

"You were in no position to know the best thing to do, Steve. From what you've told me, you couldn't see a way out of the abuse."

"No, I really couldn't. I guess she wanted it that way."

"I want you to know that children who are abused have many conflicting thoughts and feelings that can be very confusing. You aren't alone in that, and though everyone responds differently, there are some commonalities."

"Like what?"

"Often, we see an ever present feeling of shame and a nagging guilt that are hard to make sense of, probably because children are so vulnerable to the manipulative actions of an abuser. Yet, they don't have the capacity to understand it."

Steve fidgeted under Laura's steady, but compassionate, gaze. "Sounds like me," he said, not looking up.

"Children will wonder why the abuse happened and question their own reactions or motives, especially in the case of sexual abuse. Just like you mentioned, it's common for a child to believe they should've been able to stop it and even wonder if they caused it to keep happening."

Steve flinched at Laura's last words. "I get all of that. I've felt ashamed, guilty, scared, confused..." He trailed off. "Angry too."

"That's common, as well. Angry at who?" Laura leaned forward, attempting to catch Steve's eye.

"Myself. My dad. Clara too. At the whole situation. Honestly, I think I've been more angry recently than I was back then." Steve looked up at Laura. "I'm not sure what would've happened if I hadn't had anyone around to help with that."

"I'm so glad you have the support of family and friends. I can't tell you how valuable that is."

"Yeah." Steve nodded his head. "I see that. It makes me feel sick to think of what I might have done without them, especially my dad and Soda. After my dad and me got all that stuff out in the open, man...he's been great. Can't say I ever would've seen that coming either." Steve felt his lips tilt upward in a smile, despite the nature of the conversation.

Laura smiled back, before continuing the discussion. "I know it's going to be overwhelming for you to think about, but I would like for you to go back to those moments you mentioned earlier. I think, if you look at what you thought and felt when you were a child, you'll be able to connect that to now and gain some insight into exactly where the emotions you are still experiencing have their roots."

"I think I can already do that with some of it. Even though I haven't wanted to, really. With the flashbacks, I have gone back more than I cared to at all."

"The flashbacks are very intense for you, from what you've said, but I'm going to chance a guess that those memories are the ones that matter most for your current state of mind."

"That's just great," Steve said, covering his face. "I still see and hear it and now, I need to figure it out?"

"It won't be something that happens all at once, but I think you've already started the process. Take small steps." Laura turned to her desk and opened a drawer. "I'm going to give you this." She held up a small silver and gold striped notebook.

"You want me to write down my feelings, don't you?"

Laura handed Steve the notebook. "Your feelings, thoughts, memories, whatever comes to you. Then, you can share them only if you want to. You certainly don't have to."

Steve stared at the notebook, noticing the metallic shine of the stripes that made it resemble a mirror, then he set it in his lap. "Okay. I think. I've never...I mean, I've never done that before."

"It can help sometimes to put things down on paper. And I know there may be certain thoughts and emotions, both past and present, that you may not be comfortable talking about. Maybe even particular details in memories too." Laura gestured to the notebook. "That will give all of those a different and more private place to be expressed."

"Are you all right?" Nicholas asked, eyeing Steve, as he drove.

Steve shook his head, holding his stomach. "I think I'm going to be sick," he said.

"You going to make it home, or should I pull over?"

Steve felt another wave of nausea, as the car continued to move. "Pull over."

Nicholas made a right turn, stopping the car in the back of a parking lot, just as Steve managed to push open the door and start throwing up.

Nicholas waited, cringing at the sounds he heard. He saw Steve lean against the car seat, as sweat beaded on his forehead. "Any better, Son?" he asked, leaning toward Steve and resting a hand on his back.

"A little. Not so nauseous now. Just-" Steve held his head in his hands. "Just dizzy."

"We'll stay here a few minutes. Just try to relax."

"Okay."

After a few moments, Steve turned to look at Nicholas. "I didn't expect to get sick like that, but some of what we talked about today was real tough."

Nicholas sighed. "You're overwhelmed. Think you can make it home now?"

"Yeah, I think so." Steve closed the car door and glanced at the notebook he'd placed beside him.

"Laura give you that to write in?"

"Yeah. I'm not too sure about it, but I'll give it a shot."

Steve hadn't told Laura this, but she was absolutely right that there were certain details, thoughts, and emotions he didn't want to tell her about. After she'd given him the notebook, Laura told Steve more about how she suspected that the shame he'd been carrying around all this time was linked to specific moments when Clara had been abusing him.

Steve agreed with her because that sense of shame had wrapped itself around him, like it was a cloak of victim hood. This shame and the fear he experienced seemed to have marched forward in time with him and had simply lie in wait, ready to strike when Steve became vulnerable to the inner conflict triggered by memories that he had wanted to banish from his mind.

Steve had first begun to feel the pangs of a stomach ache when Laura had told him to always remember that there were no wrong thoughts or reactions. Any emotions or thoughts he'd had were okay and simply part of trying to survive a terrible series of traumatic experiences. She reminded him he had been a child attempting to cope with sexual abuse, further complicated by Clara's death and Nicholas' refusal to allow himself or Steve to confront the truth of the abuse.

The session had been just about over when Laura had paused, noticing that Steve was breathing heavily and had his hand on his stomach. Steve had told her he was just overwhelmed by everything, and she'd given him more reassurances. He had stood up, holding the notebook in his hand, as they said they're goodbye's.

Now, in the car with his dad, Steve picked up the metallic covered notebook again and flipped through the blank pages. Maybe this will be useful, he thought, if I can bring myself to write down what my mind has never wanted to let me face.

"Soda, this is rummy, not poker! It won't help you to hide an ace in your shoe, man!" Steve said, as he laughed.

"What?" Soda asked. "There's no card in my-"

"Sure about that?" Nicholas asked, as he leaned down and pulled the ace from inside the sock on Soda's left foot.

"Oh. That." Soda said, shrugging.

"In this game, you want to get rid of cards like that, not store them away for later. Believe me, Steve here got reminded of that the other night," Nicholas said, nodding his head toward his son.

Steve rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Yeah, yeah," he said. "Keep bragging."

"I'm not bragging. Just being honest," Nicholas said, also smiling, as he started to gather the cards.

"Sure you are," Steve said.

"Let me shuffle," Soda said, reaching for the deck.

"Get ready to play 52 pick-up, Dad," Steve said, nudging Nicholas, as Soda started to shuffle.

"Hey! I can shuffle just fine!" Soda insisted.

"Just messin' with you, man," Steve added, punching Soda's arm.

"I know. I know," Soda said, shooting him a grin, as he kept shuffling the deck. "You two are fun to watch. You know that?"

Steve shared a look with Nicholas, as Soda started dealing and they both picked up the cards they'd already received. Soda finished the deal and set the remainder of the deck in the middle of the table, then picked up his own hand. Steve drew a card and was examining the rest of the of his hand when his dad laid down his cards.

"I'm going to go grab a drink," Nicholas said, as he got up and walked over to the refrigerator.

Steve looked up from the plays he had just laid down, seeing Soda trying to slip a card into his shirt pocket. "Soda!" he yelled.

"What?" Soda asked. "It's a Jack, not an ace, and this isn't my shoe!"

Steve settled himself on the porch swing. He'd sure had fun tonight with both his dad and Soda. He had hardly quit laughing. Yet, the discussion in his session with Laura and the feeling of panic that had threatened to engulf him earlier were coming back to him now. Steve held the notebook she had given him and a pencil. He saw the moonlight shining on the metallic cover, then turned to look at the sky. He felt the swing sway slightly, as he moved again to get more comfortable.

Steve finally opened the notebook and stared at the blank first page. He tapped the pencil on the swing seat, then sighed. "There's a reason I've never done this before," he mumbled.

Steve put the pencil down and closed the notebook, setting it down next to him. "Maybe I should try again when I'm calmer than this," he said, as he curled up on the swing, turning sideways to face the front yard, and lay his head down. Steve gripped the arm rest on the swing, taking a deep breath, willing the rising anxiety and ache of shame to stop preying on him.


	30. Chapter 30

Steve was still curled up on the porch swing, and he jumped when he felt a presence next to him, but he didn't turn around.

"Steve?" Nicholas said.

Steve didn't move or speak, feeling memories drawing him back to the voice and hands that had caused him to be afflicted by such pain and confusion.

Nicholas moved closer to Steve and rested one arm on the back of the swing when he saw his son close his eyes and cover his ears with his hands. He knew, from watching Steve, that he was probably in the throes of a flashback. Remembering what his son had told him, Nicholas spoke again. "Steve?"

"I know you're there, Dad," Steve said, his voice barely above a whisper. He moved his hands to grip the swing, but still kept his eyes closed.

"You need to open your eyes, Son. You're okay."

When Nicholas saw Steve's eyes open, he rubbed his back for a moment. "Tell me what you see."

"I see-" Steve let out the breath he'd been holding. "the moon, the yard, the headlights on that car."

"Good."

"I hate these things, Dad." Steve's voice shook. He squeezed his eyes shut again. "I wish I could shut my brain off."

"Just talk to me. You're calm. You're doing great."

Steve opened his eyes once more, focusing on Nicholas' voice.

"Just try to stay with me. What can you feel?" Nicholas asked.

"The swing, a breeze." Steve swallowed. "My heart beating."

Nicholas wrapped his free arm around Steve and pulled him close. He felt his son lean on him, as he rested his chin on top of Steve's head. "And as long as you can feel your heart beating, that means you're alive, and I'm right here with you. Not even these terrible memories, as strong as they are, can take that away."

Nicholas went to bed that night thinking that if Clara weren't already dead, he would've hunted her down himself and made sure she ended up six feet under. The moment he'd caught her abusing Steve, Nicholas held been consumed with rage. That and his need to protect his son had taken over, though he'd kept enough control not to physically hurt Clara. That's not to say he hadn't wanted to, and if Nicholas had known just how much Steve suffered then and would continue to suffer so much later, he might have ended up in jail. He hadn't had a sip of alcohol since that day he bought the bottle of tequila, but a drink to take the edge off the anger he was feeling was beginning to sound inviting.

Nicholas considered it for a moment, before a memory of his own crashed over him. He remembered Steve drinking to try to drown the pain he felt. He didn't want his son to do that anymore, so he couldn't try it again either. He admitted to himself that alcohol numbed his emotions, but any relief it brought always came with a price. He didn't want to be the person he sometimes became when he drank. Steve didn't need that. He needed his dad, not the rambling drunk alcohol could bring out in him. He cringed, remembering the way he would talk to Steve when he'd had too much to drink. Alcohol might numb his emotions, but it also tangled them up and made his words and thoughts weave together in a confusing web. Nicholas also didn't want to become prone to any more dark insights. He'd been drunk when he'd considered the fact that he had been intimate with the woman who was sexually abusing his son. He remembered how that had made him feel so sick inside, and now, he realized that must be just a small fraction of the distress Steve was still experiencing.

Nicholas thought again about how angry he'd been at Clara, upon his discovery of her heinous abuse. After she had left and subsequently died, he'd tried to forget about her and what she'd done to Steve and had turned that simmering anger on himself. Watching Steve hurt now, still hearing her voice and feeling her hands on him, Nicholas had felt that sense of rage toward Clara start to return. He hadn't acted on it or mentioned it tonight. Instead, he had held onto Steve a little tighter. He knew he had every right to be angry at Clara, but Steve still had to come first. Nicholas had already focused too much on her once before, making him blind to what was happening beneath her disguise of deceit. Then, he'd focused too much on himself, thinking he could numb his own pain and somehow make Steve's disappear at the same time. His son had forgiven him, and he was even on the path to forgiving himself. He wouldn't let Clara, dead in her grave, destroy that now.

Steve felt a tightness seize his chest, as he was placing some magazines back in the correct order on the shelf at the DX.

"Hey, Steve, do we have any-" Soda stopped when he saw his friend clutching his chest.

He waved his hand at a coworker of theirs who was outside and had just started his shift, signaling him to come inside. Soda then went to Steve and took his arm, leading him to the back of the station.

Steve still clutched his chest, his face pale as he took breaths that were too shallow. He felt his legs begin to turn to jelly.

"This is a bad one, ain't it?" Soda said. "Come on. Sit down, before you fall down." He took Steve's arm once more and guided him down to the floor, staying beside him. "Remember what Darry said before. Breathe slow and deep."

Steve nodded, managing to slow his breathing. "God, my heart..." His voice was quiet.

"Take a deep breath. Don't try to talk yet." Soda squeezed Steve's arm and noticed he was shaking. "What brought this on, buddy?" he asked, and Steve started to speak. "Never mind. Don't answer that right now."

Steve reached for Soda's arm and held onto it, taking a deep breath.

"Remember what Laura told you too. I know there ain't much to see in here though." Soda said.

Steve squeezed Soda's arm tighter and clenched his eyes shut, managing a few more deep breaths.

"You've got quite a grip, man."

"Sorry," Steve mumbled, loosening his hold, but not letting go.

"No. Don't be. If it'd help you, I would cut off this arm, and let you have it." Soda saw a small smile cross Steve's face. "You okay?"

"I think so. My heart's just still pounding."

"You're still shaking too," Soda added, observing his friend.

Steve released Soda's arm and let himself fall back against the wall. "I think that's been coming since yesterday. I just wish it didn't happen here," he said, raking a shaky hand through his hair.

"It's all right, man," Soda said. "You told me you had another flashback last night too. Hit a rough patch again, huh?"

"Looks like it. I felt so sick after talking to Laura yesterday. It got real overwhelming. I thought I was past it though when we were laughing and playing cards. I guess that just distracted me." Steve felt his heart beat slow down, as he relaxed a little more.

"Which is still a good thing. Stay here as long as you need. I think I better get back in there." Soda patted Steve's shoulder, then got to his feet.

"Okay. Thanks, Soda. I just need a few more minutes, I think." Steve watched Soda leave, still leaning against the wall. "Man, she wasn't jokin' about ups and downs," he mumbled. "This is a real rough patch."

"I know this isn't something that's just going to magically go away, but man," Soda said, as he took a puff of his cigarette.

"What happened?" Darry asked.

Soda exhaled smoke and looked over at Darry. "Steve had a really bad panic attack today. I know counseling in supposed to help, but damn! I think it was worse than that one he had here."

Darry frowned at the memory. "He's probably having to talk about and think about things he hasn't before. That has to be tough."

Soda sighed and shook his head, taking another puff of the cigarette. "I know. Too look at him though, it looked like he was having a heart attack or something. If I didn't know, that's what I'd think. When he was trying to catch his breath, he had this death grip on my arm."

"Probably helps to hold onto something, I would think."

"Seemed like it. He did manage to make it through the last of his shift though, once he calmed down."

"That's good." Darry nudged Soda's shoulder. "Hey, I'm going to go inside and get cleaned up. I'm covered in sweat from roofing in this weather. Then, why don't me and you go for a drive or something?"

"Sure, Dar. Why not?" Soda grinned at him.

Soda rolled down the truck's window. "Hey, Evie!" he shouted, several pairs of eyes turning to look at him.

"Everyone heard you, little buddy," Darry said, as he saw Evie look at them, then begin to walk over to the truck. "Are her and Steve together at all right now?"

"Not really," Soda said.

"Hi there, Soda!" Evie said, stopping to peak her head in the rolled-down window. "How are you, Darry?"

"I'm good, Evie. What's going on?" Darry asked.

"I was just over at the bowling alley right over here. Bowled a few games," Evie said, glancing at her group of friends, then back at Soda and Darry. "How- How is Steve?"

"He's okay." Soda said. "As okay as he can be anyway."

"He said he needed time so..." Evie said, looking down.

Soda touched her shoulder. "Don't worry. He's not doing anything crazy. He's just dealing with stuff."

Evie sighed. "I'm glad. I want to give him time, like he asked, and the space I know he needs. But I miss him, you know?" she said.

"I know. I'll tell him, okay?" Soda said.

"Thanks, Soda. You're a real good guy and a good friend," Evie said. "I'll see you guys later." She waved and started to turn around.

"Hang on, Evie," Soda said, and Evie turned to look at him again. "Steve really loves you. Don't forget that."

"Aw, Son, I thought you were sleeping better now," Nicholas said, when he saw Steve asleep on the couch, the TV on.

He plopped down on the edge of the couch and stared at the TV screen. Nicholas was thinking about changing the channel when he heard his son start mumbling in his sleep.

"No, no, it doesn't. I want you to stop," Steve cried, turning over.

"Damn nightmares," Nicholas said, still watching Steve.

"No, I don't want to," Steve whimpered.

Nicholas frowned, wondering what exactly was happening in this dream. He wasn't sure if he should wake Steve or let him be. Wanting to comfort and calm him, Nicholas reached over and squeezed his son's hand. "You're okay. Just sleep," he whispered.

Just moments later, Steve's eyes opened, and he saw his dad next to him and felt his hand holding his own. "Dad?" he said.

"You're awake. You were moving around and talking some. I thought I was going to have to wake you up," Nicholas said, releasing his son's hand. "Nightmare?"

Steve nodded, wishing he didn't recall that dream.

"You were saying different things than you have before."

"I'm sure," Steve mumbled, stretching and then sitting up.

"Want to talk about it?" Nicholas asked, noticing Steve turn his eyes away from him.

"No. I don't."

"Okay," Nicholas said, noticing Steve's tone left no room for argument.

"I just- I just want to be alone, Dad." Steve started to get to his feet.

"There's nothing you can't tell me. You know that, right?" Nicholas touched Steve's shoulder, and he flinched, pulling away.

"Yeah. I know. There's nothing to tell. It was just a dream. I have them..." Steve blinked his eyes and swallowed. "I have them all the time."

Steve pulled the notebook Laura had given him out of the drawer where he had stashed it the night before. He found a pencil and sat down on his bed, turning to the first page.

"Come on," Steve said to himself. "She said you don't have to share."

He put the pencil to the paper, and wrote about the dream he'd just had. It was also the memory that had come alive in the flashback he had last night. He had partially told Laura about it the day before. Steve hadn't been able to bring himself to tell her more details about the night Clara had been angry. He wrote down the words he remembered hearing, how he'd felt, and what he remembered saying. He had dreamed about this particular night and had flashbacks of it before, but not that part of it. He hoped he never would again. If there could only be one memory about Clara's abuse that Steve was allowed to forget, he'd choose that one. It was the one night he also hadn't been able to tell his dad much about when they talked. He'd told him everything else he could remember too.

Steve was afraid to know what he'd said out loud in his sleep that Nicholas had heard, but he had an idea of what it was. This dream was definitely a reminder of why the shame he felt was so intense. Laura was right that his present emotions linked back to specific moments. The memory that had spawned that nightmare and his most recent flashback was one of them. While his nightmares usually twisted his memories and reality, this one had been just like the night it represented. It was no wonder his dad had said he only moved and talked some. He had been so scared that night. Even in slumber, he had probably frozen in fear, much like he had when the flashback had taken hold of him.

Steve finished writing and put down the pencil. He read back over what he had just written. "Well, at least, it's somewhere besides just in my head now," he said. "Maybe she's right, and it'll help." Steve closed the notebook and shoved it under his pillow.

The words Steve had spoken when he was dreaming scared Nicholas, as did his defensive refusal to talk about the nightmare he'd had, insisting there was nothing to tell. His son had told him a lot before about the dreams he experienced.

The fact that Steve had pulled away from him scared Nicholas too. He didn't want to go back to any semblance of the way things had been before. Deciding it wouldn't help to sit and worry, he knocked on Steve's door. He had been in there for at least an hour now.

"Come on in, Dad," Steve said.

Nicholas opened the door and peeked at Steve. "I know you said you wanted to be alone, but I wanted to check on you," he said.

"I said come on in, Dad."

Nicholas stepped inside the room and sat down beside Steve. "I hope you didn't feel like I was pushing you earlier."

"I didn't. That was just-" Steve sighed. "It was a really bad dream. And I didn't mean to pull away from you or get defensive. It's just because of these-" He paused, closing his eyes for a moment. "these feelings I still have."

Nicholas laid a hand on Steve's shoulder. "It's okay. Don't worry about it."

"I really do know I can tell you anything too."

"That's something I have to make sure you don't ever forget, Steve. Just like you said, nothing is off limits, remember?"


End file.
